i la
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 '^(^)
 
 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE 
 
 BY 
 
 IMBERT DE SAINT-AMAND 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 THOMAS SERGEANT PERRY 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1894
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 MINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY
 
 Collage 
 Library 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 7AOB 
 
 I. THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING 1 
 
 II. THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES 14 
 
 III. BONAPARTE'S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN 25 
 
 IV. MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY 34 
 
 V. JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR 46 
 
 VI. BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND ARCOLE 69 
 
 VII. ARCOLE 70 
 
 VIII. AFTER ARCOLE 83 
 
 IX. THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN 96 
 
 X. THE SERBELLONI PALACE 105 
 
 XI. THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO 114 
 
 XII. JULY 14 AT MILAN 123 
 
 XIII. BONAPARTE AND THE 18TH FRUCTIDOR 134 
 
 XIV. PASSERIANO 143 
 
 XV. JOSEPHINE AT VENICE 161 
 
 XVI. CAMPO FORMIO 168 
 
 XVII. BONAPARTE'S RETURN TO FRANCE 166 
 
 XVIII. THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG 172 
 
 XIX. AN ENTERTAINMENT AT THE MINISTRY OF FOREIGN 
 
 RELATIONS 184 
 
 T 
 
 2040432
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAG 
 
 XX. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE BEFORE THE EXPE- 
 DITION TO EGYPT 193 
 
 XXL THE FAREWELL AT TOULON 202 
 
 XXII. PARIS DURING THE YEAR VII 212 
 
 XXIII. JOSEPHINE DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN 220 
 
 XXIV. BONAPARTE IN EGYPT 232 
 
 XXV. THE RETURN FROM EGYPT 246 
 
 XXVI. THE MEETING OF BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE 254 
 
 XXVII. THE PROLOGUE OF THE 18TH BRUMAIRE 263 
 
 XXVIII. THE 18TH BRUMAIRE 271 
 
 XXIX. THE 19ra BRUMAIRE 280 
 
 XXX. EPILOGUE.. . 292
 
 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 I. 
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 
 
 FOR two days the Viscountess of Beauharnais 
 had borne the name of Citizeness Bonaparte. 
 March 9, 1796 (19th Ventdse, year IV.), she had 
 married the hero of the 13th Vende*miaire, the 
 saviour of the Convention ; and two regicides, Ban-as 
 and Tallien, had been present as witnesses at the 
 wedding. Her husband had spent only two days 
 with her, and during these forty-eight hours he had 
 been obliged more than once to lock himself up with 
 his maps and to plead the urgency of an imperative 
 task in excuse, shouting through the door that he 
 should have to postpone love till after the victory. 
 And yet, although younger than his wife, she was 
 nearly thirty-three, he only twenty-six, Bonaparte 
 was very much in love with her. She was graceful 
 and attractive, although she had lost some of her 
 freshness, and she had the art of pleasing her young 
 husband ; moreover, it is well known, as the Duke 
 of Ragusa says in his Memoirs, "that in love it is 
 
 1
 
 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 idle to seek for reasons ; one loves because one loves, 
 and nothing is less capable of explanation and analy- 
 sis than this feeling. . . . Bonaparte was in love in 
 every meaning of the word. It was, apparently, for 
 the first time ; and he felt it with all the force of his 
 character." But he had just been appointed com- 
 mander-in-chief of the Army of Italy. He was obliged 
 to turn his back on love, to fly to peril and glory. 
 March 11, he wrote this letter to Letourneur, Presi- 
 dent of the Directory, to tell him of his marriage 
 two days before : " I had commissioned Citizen 
 Barras to inform the Executive Directory of my mar- 
 riage with Citizeness Tascher Beauharnais. The 
 confidence which the Directory has shown me in all 
 circumstances makes it my duty to inform it of all 
 my actions. This is a new tie of attachment to my 
 country; it is an additional guarantee of my firm 
 resolution to have no other interests than those of 
 the Republic. My best wishes and respects." 
 
 The same day he left Paris, bidding farewell to his 
 wife and to his little house in the rue Chantereine 
 (later the rue de la Victoire), where his happiness 
 had been so brief. Accompanied by his aide-de- 
 camp, Junot, and his commissary-general, Chauvet, 
 he earned with him forty-eight thousand francs in 
 gold, and a hundred thousand francs in drafts, which 
 were in part protested. It was with this modest 
 purse that the commander of an army that had long 
 been in want was to lead it to the fertile plains of 
 Lombardy. He stopped at the house of Marmont's
 
 THE DAT AFTER THE WEDDING. 3 
 
 father, at Ch&tillon-sur-Seine, whence he sent Jo- 
 sephine a power of attorney to draw certain sums. 
 March 14, at six in the evening, he stopped to change 
 horses at Chanceaux, and from there he wrote a 
 second letter, as follows: "I wrote to you from 
 Chatillon, and I sent you a power of attorney to 
 draw certain sums which are due me. Every mo- 
 ment takes me further from you, and every moment 
 I feel less able to be away from you. You are ever 
 in my thoughts; my fancy tires itself in trying to 
 imagine what you are doing. If I picture you sad, 
 my heart is wrung and my grief is increased. If you 
 are happy and merry with your friends, I blame you 
 for so soon forgetting the painful three days' separa- 
 tion ; in that case you are frivolous and destitute of 
 deep feeling. As you see, I am hard to please ; but, my 
 dear, it is very different when I fear your health is 
 li;ul, or that you have any reasons for being sad ; then 
 I regret the speed with which I am separated from 
 my love. I am sure that you have no longer any kind 
 feeling towards me, and I can only be satisfied when I 
 have heard that all goes well with you. When any 
 one asks me if I have slept well, I feel that I can't 
 answer until a messenger brings me word that you 
 have rested well. The illnesses and anger of men 
 affect me only so far as I think they may affect you. 
 May my good genius, who has always protected me 
 amid great perils, guard and protect you I I will 
 gladly dispense with him. Ah ! Don't be happy, 
 but be a little melancholy, and above all, keep sorrow
 
 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 from your mind and illness from your body: you 
 remember what Ossian says about that. Write to 
 me, my pet, and a good long letter, and accept a 
 thousand and one kisses from your best and most 
 loving friend." 
 
 At this time, Bonaparte was much more in love 
 with his wife than she was with him. He adored 
 her, while she was but moderately touched by the 
 fiery transports of a devoted husband who felt for 
 her a sort of frantic idolatry. She remained in 
 Paris, a little anxious, wondering whether the man 
 with whose fate she had bound herself was a madman 
 or a hero. At certain moments she felt perfect confi- 
 dence in him ; at others, she doubted. As a woman 
 of the old regime, she asked herself, " Was I wise 
 to marry a friend of young Robespierre, a Republican 
 general ? " Bonaparte had fascinated Josephine ; he 
 had not yet won her heart. His violent, strange 
 character inspired her, in fact, with more surprise 
 than sympathy. He bore no likeness to the former 
 courtiers of Versailles, the favorite types of nobility. 
 What in him was later to be called genius, was now 
 only eccentricity. Josephine was not very anxious 
 to go to join him in Italy. She loved the gutter of 
 the rue Chantereine as Madame de Stael loved that 
 of the rue du Bac. In Paris she was near her son 
 and daughter, her relatives and friends. She took 
 delight in the varied but brilliant society of the 
 Directory, which had acquired some of the old-time 
 elegance, and where her grace, distinction, and ami-
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 5 
 
 ability aroused general admiration. She saw with 
 pleasure the opening of a few drawing-rooms, which 
 seemed, as it were, to rise from the ashes ; and she 
 was interested in the theatres and the social life in 
 which even the most indifferent woman finds some 
 charm. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bonaparte had reached Nice, and on 
 the 29th of March had taken command of the Army 
 of Italy. " There were to be seen," says the General 
 de Se'gur, "fifty-two thousand Austrians and Sar- 
 dinians and two hundred cannon, with abundant am- 
 munition ; and opposing them, thirty-two thousand 
 French, without pay, without provisions, without 
 shoes, who had sold half their belongings to buy 
 tobacco, or some wretched food. Most of them 
 lacked even bayonets. They had but sixty cannon, 
 and insufficient ammunition ; the guns were drawn 
 by lame and mangy mules, the artillery-men went 
 on foot ; and the cavalry was of no service, for the 
 men led rather than rode their horses." It was to 
 those men that the young general addressed this 
 famous proclamation : " Soldiers, you are poorly fed 
 and half-naked. The government owes you much, 
 but can do nothing for you. Your patience, your 
 courage, do you honor, but they bring you no ad- 
 vantage, no glory. I am about to lead you into the 
 most fertile plains in the world ; there you will find 
 large cities and rich provinces ; there you will find 
 honor, glory, and wealth. Soldiers of Italy, shall 
 you lack courage ? "
 
 CITIZENESS BONAPAETE. 
 
 At the moment of beginning this wonderful cam- 
 paign, in which success seemed impossible, so great 
 was the numerical superiority of the hostile armies, 
 Bonaparte, though his ambition was so eager, did 
 not forget his love. Before the first battle he wrote 
 this letter, dated Porto Maurizio, the 14th Germinal 
 (April 3, 1796) : " I have received all your letters, 
 but none has made such an impression on me as the 
 
 * 
 
 last. How can you think, my dear love, of writing 
 to me in such a way? Don't you believe that my 
 position is already cruel enough, without adding to 
 my regrets, and tormenting my soul ? What a style ! 
 What feelings are those you describe ! It's like fire ; 
 it burns my poor heart. My only Josephine, away 
 from you, there is no happiness ; away from you, 
 the world is a desert in which I stand alone, with 
 no chance of tasting the delicious joy of pouring out 
 my heart. You have robbed me of more than my 
 soul ; you are the sole thought of my life. If I am 
 worn out by all the torment of events, and fear the 
 issue, if men disgust me, if I am ready to curse life, 
 I place my hand on my heart ; your image is beating 
 there. I look at it, and love is for me perfect happi- 
 ness ; and everything is smiling, except the time that 
 I see myself absent from my love." 
 
 Bonaparte, who was soon to be the prey of sus- 
 picion and jealousy, was now all confidence and 
 rapture. A few affectionate lines from the hand he 
 loved were enough to plunge him into a sort of 
 ecstasy. " By what art," he goes on, " have you
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 7 
 
 learned how to captivate all my faculties? to con- 
 centrate in yourself my whole being? To live for 
 Josephine ! That's the story of my life. I do every- 
 thing to get to you ; I am dying to join you. Fool ! 
 I don't see that I am only going further away. How 
 many lands and countries separate us ! How long 
 before you read these words, which but feebly ex- 
 press the emotions of the heart over which you 
 reign ! " Alas ! the sun of love is seldom for long 
 unclouded, and these rapturous whispers are soon fol- 
 lowed by lamentations. That day he doubted neither 
 of his wife's fidelity, nor of her love, and yet he felt 
 the melancholy which is inseparable from grand 
 passions. " Oh ! my adorable wife ! " he wrote, " I 
 do not know what fate awaits me; but if it keeps 
 me longer from you, I shall not be able to endure it ; 
 my courage will not hold out to that point. There 
 was a time when I was proud of my courage ; and 
 when I thought of the harm that men might do me, 
 of the lot that my destiny might reserve for me, I 
 looked at the most terrible misfortunes without a 
 quiver, with no surprise. But now, the thought 
 that my Josephine may be in trouble, that she may 
 be ill, and, above all, the cruel, fatal thought that 
 she may love me less, inflicts tortures on my soul, 
 stops the beating of my heart, makes me sad and 
 dejected, robs me of even the courage of fury and 
 despair. I often used to say, Man can do no harm 
 to one who is willing to die ; but now, to die without 
 being loved by you, to die without this certainty, is
 
 8 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the torture of hell ; it is the vivid and crushing 
 image of total annihilation. It seems to me as if I 
 were choking. My only companion, you who have 
 been chosen by fate to make with me the painful 
 journey of life, the day when I shall no longer pos- 
 sess your heart will be that when for me the world 
 shall have lost all warmth and all its vegetation. . . . 
 I will stop, my sweet pet ; my soul is sad, I am very 
 tired, my mind is worn out, I am sick of men. I 
 have good reason for hating them; they separate me 
 from my love." 
 
 A man of Bonaparte's character never suffers long 
 from melancholy. All at once the warrior reappears. 
 He is suddenly aroused from his dream by the call 
 of a trumpet, and he closes his letter thus : " I am 
 at Porto Maurizio, near Oneglia ; to-morrow I am at 
 Albenga. The two armies are in motion, each trying 
 to outwit the other. The most skilful will succeed. 
 I am much pleased with Beaulieu; he manoeuvres 
 very well, and is superior to his predecessor. I shall 
 beat him, I hope, out of his boots. Don't be anxious; 
 love me like your eyes, but that's not enough, like 
 yourself; more than yourself, than your thoughts, 
 your mind, your life, your all. But forgive me, I'm 
 raving; nature is weak, when one feels keenly, in 
 him who loves you. To Barras, Sucy, Madame 
 Tallien, my sincere regards; to Madame Cha'teau- 
 Renard, the proper messages; to Eugene, to Hor- 
 tense, my real love." 
 
 April 3, Bonaparte had perfect confidence in his
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 9 
 
 wife ; the 7th, he suspects her : the 3d, he blames 
 her for writing too affectionately ; the 7th, he blames 
 her for writing too coldly. He wrote to her from 
 Albenga, the 18th Germinal (April 7, 1796): "I 
 have received a letter which you interrupt to go, 
 you say, into the country ; and afterwards you pre- 
 tend to be jealous of me, who am so worn out by 
 work and fatigue. Oh, my dear ! . . . Of course, I 
 am in the wrong. In the early spring the country is 
 beautiful ; and then, the nineteen-year-old lover was 
 there, without a doubt. The idea of wasting another 
 moment in writing to the man, three hundred leagues 
 away, who lives, moves, exists, only in memory of 
 you; who reads your letters as one devours one's 
 favorite dishes after hunting for six hours. I am 
 not pleased. Your last letter is as cold as friendship. 
 I find in it none of the fire which shines in your 
 glance, which I have sometimes fancied that I saw 
 there. But how absurd I am! I found your pre- 
 vious letters moved me too much ; the emotions they 
 produced broke my rest and mastered my senses. I 
 wanted colder letters, but these give me the chill of 
 death. The fear of not being loved by Josephine, 
 the thought of her proving inconstant, of But I 
 am inventing trouble for myself. When there is so 
 much that is real in the world, is it necessary to 
 devise more? You cannot have inspired me with 
 boundless love without sharing it, with your soul, 
 your thought, your reason ; and no one can, in 
 return for such affection, such devotion, inflict a
 
 10 CITIZENES8 BONAPARTE. 
 
 deadly blow. ... A memento of my only wife, and 
 a victory, those are my wishes ; a single, complete 
 memento, worthy of him who thinks of you at every 
 moment." 
 
 The victories were about to follow, swift and 
 amazing. April 12, it was Montenotte; the 14th, 
 Millesimo. On the heights of Monte Zemolo, the 
 army saw suddenly at its feet the promised land, the 
 rich and fertile plains of Italy, with their splendid 
 cities, their broad rivers, their magnificent cultivation. 
 The rays of the dawn lit up this unrivalled view ; on 
 the horizon were to be seen the eternal snows, of the 
 Alps. A cry of joy broke from the ranks. The 
 young general, pointing to the scene of his future 
 conquests, exclaimed, "Hannibal crossed the Alps, 
 and we have turned them ! " April 22, the victory 
 of Mondovi ; on the 28th, the armistice of Cherasco 
 with Piedmont. Bonaparte addressed this proclama- 
 tion to his troops : " Soldiers, in fifteen days you have 
 won six victories; captured twenty-one flags, fifty 
 cannon, many fortified places ; conquered the richest 
 part of Piedmont ; you have captured fifteen thou- 
 sand prisoners, and killed and wounded ten thousand 
 men. You lacked everything, you have supplied 
 yourself with everything ; you have gained battles 
 without cannon ; crossed rivers without bridges ; 
 made forced marches without shoes ; often biv- 
 ouacked without bread; the Republican phalanxes 
 were alone capable of such extraordinary deeds. 
 Soldiers, receive your due of thanks ! "
 
 THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 11 
 
 Bonaparte sent his brother Joseph and his aide-de- 
 camp Junot to Paris. The 5th Flore"al (April 24, 
 1796), he wrote to his wife : " My brother will hand 
 you this letter. I have a very warm friendship for 
 him. He will, I hope, win yours ; he deserves it. 
 He is naturally of a very gentle character, and unfail- 
 ingly kind ; he is full of good qualities. I wrote to 
 Barras asking that he be appointed consul in some 
 Italian port. He wants to live in quiet with his little 
 wife, out of the great whirl of important events. I 
 recommend him to you. I have received your letters 
 of the 16th and the 21st. You were a good many 
 days without writing to me. What were you doing? 
 Yes, my dear, I am, not jealous, but sometimes un- 
 easy. Come quickly ; I warn you that if you delay, 
 you will find me ill. These fatigues and your 
 absence are too much for me." Henceforth Bona- 
 parte's keenest desire was to see his wife come to 
 Italy. He begs and entreats her not to lose a 
 moment. "Your letters," he goes on, "are the 
 delight of my days, and my happy days are not very 
 many. Junot is carrying twenty-two flags to Paris. 
 You must come back with him ; do you understand ? 
 It would be hopeless misery, an inconsolable grief, 
 continual agony, if I should have the misfortune of 
 seeing him come back alone, my adorable one. He 
 will see you, he will breathe the air of your shrine, 
 perhaps even you will grant him the singular and 
 unappreciable favor of kissing your cheek, while I am 
 alone, and very, very far away. But you will come,
 
 12 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 won't you ? You will be here, by my side, on my 
 heart, in my arms ! Take wings, come, come ! But 
 travel slowly ; the way is long, bad, and tiresome. If 
 you were to upset or be hurt ; if the fatigue Come, 
 eagerly, my adorable one, but slowly." 
 
 King Joseph, in his Memoirs, thus speaks of his 
 and Junot's departure for Paris: "It was at Cherasco, 
 the 5th of Flordal, that my brother commissioned me 
 to set before the Directory his reasons for the speediest 
 possible peace with the King of Sardinia, in order to 
 isolate the Austrians in Italy. To his aide-de-camp 
 Junot he assigned the duty of presenting the battle- 
 flags. We left in the same postchaise and reached 
 Paris one hundred and twenty hours after our depart- 
 ure from Nice. It would be hard to form a notion of 
 the popular enthusiasm. The members of the Direc- 
 tory hastened to testify their content with the army 
 and its leader. Director Carnot, at the end of a 
 dinner at his house at which I was present, indignant 
 with the unfavorable opinion which Bonaparte's ene- 
 mies expressed, declared before twenty guests that 
 they did him injustice, and opening his waistcoat, he 
 showed the portrait of the general, which he wore on 
 his heart, and exclaimed, ' Tell your brother that he 
 is there, because I foresee that he will be the saviour 
 of France, and that he must well know that in the 
 Directory he has only admirers and friends.' " Murat, 
 who had been sent from Cherasco, through Piedmont, 
 to carry the draft of the armistice to Paris, arrived 
 there before Joseph and Junot. Josephine asked of
 
 THE DAT AFTER THE WEDDING. 13 
 
 them all the most minute details concerning her 
 husband's success. In a few days he had stepped 
 from obscurity to glory. Citizeness Bonaparte did 
 not regret her confidence in the star of the man of 
 Vende'miaire, and already in the Republic she held 
 the position of a princess.
 
 IL 
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 
 
 BONAPARTE'S glory had been, one might say, 
 the work of an instant. The feeling in Paris 
 was one of profound surprise. Even Josephine had 
 been amazed at such swift and unexpected successes. 
 Every one was asking for details about this young 
 man who was known only from the part he played 
 in the day of Vende'miaire, and whose origin was 
 shrouded in mystery; but none knew anything more 
 than how his name was pronounced and spelled. Of 
 his family, his beginnings, his fortune, his character, 
 the public knew absolutely nothing. But no one 
 ever equalled Napoleon in the art of getting himself 
 talked about. In his first proclamations to the army, 
 in his first despatches to the Directory, we see this 
 knowledge of effect which made the hero an artist. 
 The Directory went to work to build him a pedestal 
 with their own hands. 
 
 At first the Moniteur mentioned the success of the 
 Army of Italy without especial emotion. It was on 
 the last page of the number of May 10, 1796, that 
 was printed the account of the reception of the flags:
 
 TIIK FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 15 
 
 a ceremony at which Josephine was present. The 
 Moniteur spoke thus : " The Directory received 
 to-day, in public session, twenty-one flags captured 
 by the French Republicans from the Austrians and 
 the Sardinians, at Millesimo, Dego, and Mondovi. 
 The Minister of War, in presenting the officer who 
 brought these trophies, made a speech in which he 
 paid homage to the valor of this Army of Italy which, 
 to the glory of finishing the campaign by its victories, 
 adds that of opening it again by its triumphs, the 
 precursors of a peace worthy of the French Republic. 
 The officer then spoke with the virile accent and 
 modest air which characterize the heroes of liberty. 
 In the name of his fellow-soldiers he swore that they 
 would shed the last drop of their blood in defence of 
 the Republic, in behalf of the enforcement of the 
 laws, and of the support of the Constitution of 1795. 
 The President of the Directory replied with an emo- 
 tion which rendered the dignity of his words more 
 touching. He offered the brave officer a sword and 
 gave him a fraternal kiss. This session, which lasted 
 but half an hour, presented a spectacle as imposing 
 as it was moving. The sounds of military music 
 added to the general enthusiasm, which frequently 
 manifested itself by cries of 'Long live the Re- 
 public!'" 
 
 In her interesting Memoirs, the Duchess of 
 AbrantSs speaks of the effect produced on that day 
 by Madame Bonaparte and Madame Tallien, who were 
 two of the principal ornaments of this patriotic fes-
 
 16 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 tival. " Madame Bonaparte," she says, " was still 
 charming. ... As for Madame Tallien, she was then 
 in the flower of her wonderful beauty. Both were 
 dressed after the fashion of antiquity, which was at 
 that time regarded as the height of elegance, and as 
 sumptuously as was possible for the middle of the 
 day. Junot must surely have been very proud to 
 give his arm to two such charming women, when 
 they left the Directory after the reception. Junot 
 was then twenty-five years old : he was a handsome 
 young man, and had a most striking martial air ; on 
 that day he wore a magnificent uniform of a colonel 
 of hussars (the uniform of Berchini), and all that the 
 richness of such a dress could add to his fine appear- 
 ance had been employed to make the young and 
 brave messenger, who was still pale from the wounds 
 which had stained those flags, worthy of the army he 
 represented. On leaving, he offered his arm to 
 Madame Bonaparte, who had precedence as the wife of 
 his general, especially on this formal occasion ; the 
 other he gave to Madame Tallien, and thus he de- 
 scended the staircase of the Luxembourg." Would 
 not Junot, as colonel of hussars, with Josephine on 
 one arm and Madame Tallien on the other, on the 
 staircase of the palace of Maria de' Medici, make a 
 charming subject of a genre picture ? The Duchess 
 of Abrantds describes the excitement of the crowd, 
 who were anxious to see the young hero and the two 
 fashionable beauties. " The throng," she says, " was 
 numberless. They surged and pressed for a better
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 17 
 
 view. ' See ; there's his wife ! that's his aide-de- 
 camp ! How young he is ! And how pretty she is ! 
 Long live General Bonaparte ! ' shouted the people. 
 ' Long live Citizeness Bonaparte ! She is kind to the 
 poor ! ' ' Yes, yes,' said a fat marketwoman ; ' she is 
 certainly Our Lady of the Victories.' ' 
 
 The poet Arnault, in his Souvenirs of a Sexage- 
 narian, also describes the effect produced by Jose- 
 phine's beauty on this occasion. Madame Bonaparte, 
 who was much admired, shared the sceptre of popu- 
 larity with Madame Tallien and Madame Re'camier. 
 " With these two women for her rivals," says 
 Arnault, " although she was less brilliant and fresh, 
 yet, thanks to the regularity of her features, the won- 
 derful grace of her figure, and her agreeable expres- 
 sion, she too was beautiful. I still recall them all 
 there, dressed in such a way as to bring out their 
 various advantages most becomingly, wearing beauti- 
 ful flowers on their heads, on a lovely May day, en- 
 tering the room where the Directory was about to 
 receive the battle-flags : they looked like the three 
 spring months united to celebrate the victory." The 
 young poet, who more than once had the honor of 
 escorting Josephine, was veiy proud to accompany 
 her and Madame Tallien to the first performance of 
 Lesueur's TSUmaque at the Thdatre Feydeau. " I 
 will confess," he says, " that it was not without some 
 pride that I found myself seated between the two 
 most remarkable women of the time, and it is not 
 without some pleasure that I recall the fact : those
 
 18 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 feelings were natural for a young man enthusiastic 
 for beauty and for glory. It was not Tallien whom 
 I should have loved in his wife, but it was certainly 
 Bonaparte whom I admired in his." 
 
 At that time Bonaparte passed for a perfect Repub- 
 lican. He had written to the Directory, May 6 : " For 
 a long time nothing has been able to add to the esteem 
 and devotion which I shall display at every opportu- 
 nity for the Constitution and the government. I have 
 seen it established amid the most disgusting passions, 
 all tending equally to the destruction of the Republic 
 and of the French commonwealth ; I was even able 
 by my zeal and the force of circumstances, to be of 
 some use at its beginning. My motto shall always 
 be to die in its support." 
 
 The Directors thought that a general who expressed 
 such an ardent devotion to Republican ideas ought 
 to receive every encouragement and all praise. With 
 no suspicions of the conqueror's future conduct, they 
 were anxious to adorn themselves, as it were, with 
 his victories, and to make them redound to the glory 
 of their government. Hence the ceremony of May 
 10 seemed insufficient; they decided that the new 
 festivals should be more brilliant and impressive. It 
 was on the 10th of May, the day when the Directory 
 formally received the flags captured in the first vic- 
 tories, that Bonaparte won the battle of Lodi, a 
 glorious day that made a deep impression on the 
 imagination of the populace. None thought of any- 
 thing except of the bridge over which, in spite of the
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 19 
 
 fire of the enemy converging on its long and narrow 
 path, the young hero had led his grenadiers at the 
 double quick. They already had begun to call him 
 infallible and irresistible. May 15, he made his tri- 
 umphal entry into Milan. 
 
 The Directory was entranced. Its Commissary 
 General of the Army of Italy, Salicetti, had written, 
 May 11 : " Citizens Directors, immortal glory to the 
 brave Army of Italy! Gratitude for the chief who 
 leads it with such wise audacity ! Yesterday will be 
 famous in the annals of history and of war. . . . The 
 Republican column having formed, Bonaparte passed 
 through the ranks. His presence filled the soldiers 
 with enthusiasm ; he was greeted with incessant cries 
 of ' Long live the Republic ! ' He had the charge 
 sounded, and the men rushed on the bridge with 
 the speed of lightning." 
 
 To celebrate these new triumphs, the Directory 
 prepared a festival, half patriotic, half mythological, 
 one more Pagan than Christian, in which reminis- 
 cences of Plutarch mingled with those of Jean 
 Jacques Rousseau; one in which, besides the heroic 
 feeling of the time, there found expression its fond- 
 ness for declamation and its love of extravagant 
 language. The "Festival of Gratitude and of the 
 Victories " (such was its official title) was celebrated 
 at the Champ de Mars, the 10th Prairial, Year IV., 
 May 29, 1796. In the middle of the Champ de Mars, 
 which was called also the Champ de la Reunion, 
 there had been raised a platform about twelve
 
 20 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 feet high. There led to it four flights of steps, 
 each about sixty feet broad. At the foot of the 
 steps were lions, " the symbol of force, courage, 
 and generosity," according to the Moniteur. The 
 circle describing trie limits of the space devoted to 
 the ceremony was formed by cannon which served as 
 barriers ; between the cannon, flags were arranged 
 which were connected by festoons of flowers. On a 
 pedestal in the middle of the rising ground appeared 
 the statue of Liberty seated amid various military 
 trophies, with one hand resting on the Constitution, 
 and in the other holding a wand, on the top of which 
 was William Tell's cap. Perfumes were burning in 
 antique tripods placed about the statue. On one 
 side arose a high tree on which were hung, like 
 trophies, the captured battle-flags. Near by, on 
 pedestals, stood the Victories, like figures of Fame. 
 Each one of them held in one hand a palm, and in 
 the other a military trumpet raised to her lips. 
 Finally, on an altar, were oak and laurel leaves 
 which the Directors were to distribute in the name 
 of the grateful country. 
 
 At ten in the morning, a salvo of artillery an- 
 nounced the beginning of the festival. The slopes 
 of the Champ de Mars were covered with tents. 
 The Parisian National Guard, with its arms and 
 banners, marched forward in fourteen sections, rep- 
 resenting the fourteen armies of the Republic. To 
 each one of these fourteen sections was added a 
 certain number of disabled veterans or wounded
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 21 
 
 soldiers, and care had been taken to place them in 
 the section representing the army in which they had 
 received their wounds. Carnot spoke first, as Presi- 
 dent of the Directory. His speech was, so to speak, 
 a military eclogue. The former member of the Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety celebrated military glory 
 after the fashion of a pastoral. He blew in turn the 
 trumpet and the shepherd's pipe. Sensibility mingled 
 with warlike ardor. It was a sermon of a Tyrtaeus. 
 Few documents so well reflect the ideas and tastes 
 of the society of that time as this speech, which is 
 full of words of war, and, at the same time, of hu- 
 manity. It begins thus : " At this moment, when 
 nature seems to be born anew, when the earth, 
 adorning itself with flowers and verdure, promises 
 us rich harvests, when all creatures announce in 
 their language the beneficent Intelligence which 
 makes over the universe anew, the French people 
 gather, in this solemn festival, to render fitting 
 homage to the talents and the virtues loved by the 
 country and by every human being. What day 
 could more fitly unite all hearts? What citizen, 
 what man, can be insensible to the feeling of grati- 
 tude ? We exist only by means of a long series of 
 benefits, and our life is but a continual interchange 
 of services. Feeble, without support, our parents' 
 love watches over our infancy. They guide our first 
 steps ; their patient solicitude aids the development 
 of our members; from them we receive our first 
 notions of what we are ourselves and of what is out-
 
 22 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 side of us." After this exordium comes the usual 
 praise of sensibility, the fashionable term, which the 
 most ferocious of the Terrorists, Robespierre himself, 
 had employed with so much emphasis. " Sensibility," 
 said Carnot, "does not confine itself to the narrow 
 sphere of the family circle ; it goes forth to find the 
 needy in his hovel, and pours into his breast the balm 
 of aid and consolation, and though already rewarded 
 for its benevolence by the feeling of benevolence, it 
 receives a further recompense from gratitude. Hu- 
 manity, how delicious is thy practice ! how pitiable 
 the greedy soul who knows thee not ! " 
 
 After this dithyramb in honor of nature, the family, 
 and sensibility, come martial descriptions ; as after 
 the harp, the trumpet. "The new-born Republic 
 arms its children to defend its independence ; nothing 
 can stem their impetuosity : they ford rivers, capture 
 retrenchments, scale cliffs. Then, after a host of 
 victories, they enlarge our boundaries to the barriers 
 which nature itself has set, and pursue over the ice 
 the fragments of three armies : there, they are about 
 to exterminate the hordes of traitors and of brigands 
 vomited forth by England, they punish the guilty 
 leaders and restore to the Republic their brothers, too 
 long lost; here, crossing the Pyrenees, they hurl 
 themselves from the mountain top, overwhelming 
 every obstacle, and are stopped only by an honorable 
 peace ; then, scaling the Alps and the Apennines, 
 they dash across the Po and the Adda. The ardor of 
 the soldier is seconded by the genius and the audacity
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE VICTORIES. 23 
 
 of his leaders, who form their plans with wisdom and 
 carry them out with energy, now arranging their 
 forces with calmness, now plunging into the midst 
 of dangers at the head of their companions." 
 
 Carnot concluded his speech with an expression of 
 gratitude to the soldiers of the Republic. " Accept," 
 he exclaimed, "accept this solemn testimonial of 
 national gratitude, O armies of the Republic ! . . . 
 Why is nothing left but your memory, ye heroes 
 who died for liberty ? You will at least live forever 
 in our hearts ; your children will be dear to us. The 
 Republic will repay to them what it owes you ; and 
 we have come here to pay the first, in proclaiming 
 your glory and its recognition. Republican armies ! 
 represented in this enclosure by some of your mem- 
 bers, ye invincible phalanxes whose new successes I 
 see in the future, advance and receive the triumphal 
 crowns which the French people orders to be fastened 
 to your banners." 
 
 Later, there was dancing on the Champ de Mars 
 until nightfall. In the evening there was a great 
 Republican banquet at which was sung a hymn, half 
 patriotic, half convivial, composed for the occasion 
 by the poet Lebrun, : Pindar Lebrun, as he was 
 then called. It ran as follows : 
 
 " O day of undying memory, 
 Adorn thyself with our laurels ! 
 Centuries, you will find it hard to believe 
 The prodigies of our warriors. 
 
 The enemy has disappeared in flight or has drunk the black 
 wave.
 
 24 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 "Under the laurels, what charms has Bacchus? 
 Let us fill, my friends, the cup of glory 
 With a nectar fresh and sparkling ! 
 Let us drink, let us drink to Victory, 
 Faithful mistress of the French. 
 
 " Liberty, preside over our festivities ; 
 Rejoice in our brilliant exploits I 
 The Alps have bowed their heads, 
 And have not been able to defend the kings. 
 The Eridanus recounts to the seas our swift conquests," etc., etc. 
 
 We have seen what was going on in Paris. What 
 had happened at Milan?
 
 III. 
 
 BONAPARTE'S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN. 
 
 rTlHE young and valiant army which had just made 
 JL its triumphant entrance into Milan was full of 
 ardor, fire, and enthusiasm. All were young, the 
 commander, the officers, and the men, as were their 
 ideas, feelings, and hopes. These short men of the 
 South, with their sunburned faces, their expression 
 of wit and mischief, their eyes of fire, had a proud and 
 free air. They had the merits of the French Revo- 
 lution without its faults. They were brave and 
 kind, terrible and generous, magnificent in the battle, 
 and gay and amusing on the day after the victory. 
 Full of imagination, rather inclined to talking and 
 bragging, but yet so worthy of respect for their hero- 
 ism, their self-denial, their unselfishness ; they were 
 not ambitious for themselves, but only for their 
 country. They had no jealousy of one another, uml 
 did not care for rank or money. The military career 
 was not their trade, but a vocation, a passion. They 
 preferred their ragged uniforms to the luxury of a 
 millionnaire. They despised everything which was 
 not military. Not only had they no fear of danger, 
 
 25
 
 26 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 they loved it, and lived in it as if it were their ele- 
 ment. In the redoubt of Dego, Bonaparte exclaimed, 
 " With twenty thousand such men, one could march 
 through Europe." A Gascon grenadier answered 
 aloud, " If the little corporal will always lead us in 
 that way, I promise that he will- never see us in 
 retreat." Since Caesar's legionaries there had been 
 nothing seen that could be compared with Bona- 
 parte's soldiers. They were very happy at Milan. 
 They who had so long been without shoes, 
 
 " Barefooted, without bread, deaf to cowardly alarms, 
 All marched to glory with the same step," 
 
 were now well nourished, well clad and shod. Good 
 shoes are a great happiness to a poor soldier. They 
 were in this city, which is a sort of earthly paradise, 
 with its magnificent marble cathedral, its beautiful 
 women, its enchanting views. The city is surrounded 
 by a remarkably fertile country : meadows, woods, 
 fields, gilded by the sun ; in the distance appears the 
 huge chain of the Alps, the summits of which, from 
 Monte Viso and Monte Rosa as far as the mountains 
 of Bassano, are covered with snow all the year round. 
 The air is so pure and limpid that the nearest points 
 of the Alpine chain, though really a dozen or fifteen 
 leagues away, seem scarcely more than three. The 
 soldiers gazed with rapture at this glowing panorama, 
 at the rich fields of Lombardy, this promised land ; at 
 gigantic Monte Viso, which had so long risen over 
 their heads, and now they were to see the sun set 
 behind it.
 
 BONAPARTE'S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN. 27 
 
 Bonaparte entered Milan May 15, 1796. He found 
 there a large force of the National Guard, wearing 
 the Lombard colors, green, white, and red. Under 
 the command of a great nobleman of the city, the 
 Duke of Serbelloni, it was drawn up in line along his 
 path. Cheers filled the air. Pretty women were look- 
 ing out from every window. When Bonaparte reached 
 the Porta Romana, the National Guard presented 
 arms before him. With a large detachment of in- 
 fantry in advance, and surrounded by his guard of 
 hussars, he went on as far as the Place in front of 
 the Archducal Palace, where he was quartered, and 
 there was served a dinner of two hundred plates. A 
 liberty-tree was set out in the square, amid shouts of 
 " Hurrah for Liberty ! Long live the Republic ! " 
 The day closed with a very brilliant ball, at which 
 appeared several ladies of the city, wearing the French 
 national colors. 
 
 The same day, one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp, 
 Marmont, who was later Duke of Ragusa, wrote to 
 his father: "Dear Father, we are to-day in Milan. 
 Our triumphal entry recalled the entrance of the 
 ancient Roman generals into Rome when they had 
 deserved well of the country. Milan is a very fine 
 city, large and populous. Its inhabitants are thor- 
 oughly devoted to the French, and it is impossible 
 to express all the signs of affection they have given 
 us. ... It is easy to forget all the fatigues of a war 
 as hot as this has been, when victory is our reward, 
 Our successes are really incredible. They make
 
 28 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 General Bonaparte's name forever famous, and it is 
 perfectly clear that we owe them to him. Any one 
 else in his place would have been beaten, and he has 
 gone on simply from one triumph to another. . . . 
 This campaign is the finest and most brilliant that 
 has ever been known. It ought to be recorded and 
 read. It is full of instruction, and those who can un- 
 derstand it will get great profit from it. Such, dear 
 father, is a faithful picture of our situation." 
 
 That evening Bonaparte asked his aide-de-camp, 
 "Well, Marmont, what do you suppose people are 
 saying about us in Paris? Are they satisfied?" 
 "They must be filled with admiration for you." 
 " They haven't seen anything yet," replied Bona- 
 parte ; " there are still greater successes for us in the 
 future. Fortune has not smiled on us to-day for me 
 to despise her favors ; she is a woman, and the more 
 she does for me, the more I shall demand of her. . . . 
 In our time, no one has devised anything great ; I 
 must set an example." 
 
 Bonaparte possessed to a wonderful degree the art 
 of striking the imagination. One would have said that 
 in him was revived one of the great men of Plutarch. 
 His genius, fed on the history of the ancients, trans- 
 ported antiquity into modern times. All his words 
 and actions, even when they appeared most simple, 
 were arranged for effect. He thought continually 
 of Paris, as Alexander used to think of Athens. 
 Tli3 feeling which he was anxious to inspire was a 
 mixture of admiration and surprise. With an un-
 
 BONAPARTE'S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN. 29 
 
 rivalled audacity, and the adventurous spirit of a 
 gambler who stakes everything for everything, he 
 united a knowledge of the human heart most as- 
 tounding in a man of his age. Nothing is rarer than 
 this combination of a boundless imagination with a 
 positive and scheming mind. There were in Bona- 
 parte two different and complementary persons, 
 the poet and the practical man. He dreamt and 
 he acted; he adored at the same time Ossian and 
 mathematics; he passed from the wildest visions to 
 the most precise realities ; from the sublimest gener- 
 alities to the humblest and most trivial details. It 
 is this harmony between generally incompatible qual- 
 ities that makes him such an original figure. 
 
 The general's great merit lay in perceiving at once 
 what he could do with such men as he had under his 
 command. So humdrum a society as ours cannot 
 easily understand heroic times when the richest 
 banker is inferior to a simple sub-lieutenant, when 
 the military spirit was every day calling forth fabu- 
 lous exploits. Bonaparte's soldiers believed in him, 
 and he believed in them. The strength of this un- 
 rivalled army lay in this, that they had confidence. 
 The French are knights by birth. The Republic, 
 far from changing their character, only made them 
 more enthusiastic. As soon as they had received 
 their baptisms of fire, the Jacobins became paladins, 
 the Sans Culottes found themselves filled with the 
 aspirations of the Crusaders. The companions of 
 Charlemagne or of Godfrey of Bouillon were not
 
 30 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 braver or more ardent. What an irresistible fire 
 there was in that revolutionary chivalry, the nobility 
 of a day, which already effaced the old coats of arms, 
 and when applauded by the aristocracy of Milan, it 
 could proudly say, like Bonaparte, " One grows old 
 quickly on the battle-field." 
 
 Stendhal knew how to describe most accurately 
 this glorious poverty of the heroes of the Army of 
 Italy, in the characteristic anecdote which he tells 
 of one of the handsomest of its officers, a M. Robert. 
 When he reached Milan, in the morning of May 15, 
 M. Robert was invited to dinner by a marchioness, to 
 whose house he had been billeted. He dressed him- 
 self with great care, but what he needed was a good 
 pair of shoes ; of his own, only the uppers were left. 
 These he fastened very carefully with little, well- 
 blacked cords ; but, I repeat, the shoes had no soles at 
 all. He was received most cordially by the marchion- 
 ess, and he found her so charming, and was in such 
 uneasiness lest his poverty should have been detected 
 by the lackeys in magnificent livery who were waiting 
 on the table, that when he rose, he dropped a six- 
 franc piece into their hands : it was every penny he 
 had in the world. 
 
 At that time, society was not thoroughly honey- 
 combed with corruption ; there were great ladies who 
 loved for the sake of love, and money was not the 
 sole attraction. The desire of pleasure was most keen 
 in those days when one counted on a short life. The 
 deadlier the battles, the greater the eagerness for
 
 BONAPARTE 1 S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN. 31 
 
 amusement. The more they braved death, the more 
 feverishly they pursued what makes life agreeable. 
 What could be bought for money they did not care 
 for ; but what could not be bought, like love and 
 glory, they sought with the utmost ardor. 
 
 Moreover, from the moment they entered Milan, 
 the soldiers enjoyed a comfort to which they had long 
 been strangers. They began to grow fat ; they had 
 good bread and meat to eat, and good wine to drink ; 
 they changed their rags for new uniforms supplied 
 by the city. Monday, May 16, Bonaparte received 
 the oath of allegiance from the city authorities : that 
 evening there was a concert in the theatre of La Scala, 
 which was brilliantly lit. The 18th, a new liberty- 
 tree was planted, and a national feast was announced 
 in the name of the Society of the People, in a decree 
 dated Year I. of the Lombard Republic. The 19th, 
 the city was illuminated, and everywhere was posted 
 this proclamation, signed by Bonaparte and Salicetti : 
 " The French Republic, which has sworn hatred to 
 tyrants, has at the same time sworn fraternity with 
 the people. . . . The despot who so long held Lom- 
 bardy beneath his yoke did great harm to France; 
 but the French know that the cause of kings is not 
 that of their people. It is sure that the victorious 
 army of an insolent monarch would spread terror 
 throughout a defeated nation ; but a republican army, 
 compelled to make war to the death against the kings 
 it combats, promises friendship to the people whom 
 its victories deliver from tyranny."
 
 32 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Bonaparte seemed happy, yet even at the moment 
 of his victory he was suffering. Stendhal has said : 
 " Seeing this young general under the handsome tri- 
 umphal arch of the Porta Romana, it would have 
 been hard for even the most experienced philosopher 
 to guess the two passions which tormented his heart." 
 These were the hottest love excited by madness to 
 jealousy, and anger due to the determination of the 
 Directory. The very evening before his victorious 
 entry into Milan, Bonaparte, unknown to any of those 
 about him, had sent to Paris his resignation. He had 
 just been informed by the Directoiy, that henceforth 
 the Army of Italy was to be divided into two armies, 
 one of which, that of the South, was to be confided to 
 him, and was to set forth to conquer the southern 
 part of the Peninsula; while the other, that of the 
 North, was to be commanded by General Kellerman. 
 Bonaparte perceived that this arrangement robbed 
 him of his glory, and would destroy his power and 
 fame. May 14, he wrote to the Directory a letter con- 
 taining this passage : " I regard it as very impolitic 
 <feo divide the Army of Italy ; it is equally unfavorable 
 to the interests of the Republic to set it under two 
 different generals. I have conducted the campaign 
 without consulting any one ; I should have failed if 
 I had been compelled to adapt myself to another's 
 methods. I have gained some advantages over greatly 
 superior forces, when I was in absolute need of every- 
 thing, because, confiding in your trust in me, my 
 march was as swift as my thought. ... I feel that
 
 BONAPARTE'S ENTRANCE INTO MILAN. 33 
 
 it takes much courage to write to you this letter; 
 it exposes me to the charge of ambition and pride. 
 But I owe to you this statement of my feelings." 
 The same day he wrote privately to Carnot a letter 
 which closed thus : " I am very anxious not to lose, 
 in a week, two months of fatigue, toil, and danger, 
 and also not to be fettered. I have begun with some 
 glory, and I desire to continue to be worthy of you. 
 Believe, moreover, that nothing will diminish the 
 esteem which you inspire in all who know you." 
 
 Thus the successful general, at the very beginning 
 of his career, was threatened with the loss of the 
 command which had brought him so much renown. 
 Possibly it was not this thought w r hich most sorely 
 wrung his passionate heart. He had besought his 
 wife to join him, and yet she had not come. Days 
 and weeks passed, but he received no news of her 
 starting. Perhaps, he thought in his heart, per- 
 haps she does not come because she is detained in 
 Paris by love for some one else. This tormenting 
 thought marred the joy of his triumph.
 
 IV. 
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 
 
 MADAME DE R^MUSAT says, in her curious 
 Memoirs: "I ought to speak about Bona- 
 parte's heart; but if it is possible to believe that a 
 being like us in every other respect should yet be 
 destitute of that part of our nature which inspires us 
 with the need of loving and being loved, I should 
 say that when he was created, his heart was probably 
 forgotten; or else, perhaps, that he knew how to 
 repress it completely. He was too anxious for his 
 own fame to be hampered by an affectionate feeling 
 of any sort. He scarcely recognized the ties of 
 blood, the rights of nature." This opinion seems to 
 us strangely exaggerated. Doubtless ambition and 
 the lust of glory finally prevailed over every other 
 feeling in this man's soul. Yet we are not justified 
 in saying, with Lamartine : 
 
 " No human feeling beat beneath thy thick armor. 
 Without hate and without love, thou didst live to think. 
 Like an eagle, reigning in a solitary heaven, 
 Thou hadst but a glance wherewith to measure the earth, 
 And talons to embrace it." 
 34
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 35 
 
 Whatever the poet may say, Napoleon knew both 
 hate and love. Whatever power a man may obtain, 
 he cannot rise outside of humanity. Heroes and 
 rulers, unable to satisfy that void which is called the 
 heart with the triumphs of glory and ambition, they 
 feel the need of personal happiness, Hke humble citi- 
 zens ; and they are often more elate over a word, a 
 glance, a smile, than over all the splendor of their 
 greatness and all the intoxication of victory. To 
 deny Bonaparte's passionate love for Josephine in 
 1796 would be to deny the evidence. All those 
 who were in his company at the time agree in bearing 
 witness to this feeling. His secretary, Bourrienne, 
 and his aides-de-camp, Marmont and Lavalette, his 
 friend, the poet Arnault, were all equally struck by 
 it. Marmont has said, in the part of his Memoirs 
 devoted to the first Italian campaign: "Bonaparte, 
 however occupied he may have been with his great- 
 ness, the interest entrusted to him, and with his 
 future, had nevertheless time to devote to feelings 
 of another sort ; he was continually thinking of his 
 wife. He desired her, and awaited her with impa- 
 tience. . . . He often spoke to me of her, and of 
 his love, with all the frankness, fire, and illusion of 
 a very young man. Her continual postponement of 
 her departure tormented him most grievously ; and 
 he gave way to feelings of jealousy, and to a sort of 
 superstition which was a marked trait of his charac- 
 ter. During a trip we made together at this time, 
 to inspect the places in Piedmont that had fallen
 
 36 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 into our hands, one morning, at Tortona, the glass 
 in front of his wife's portrait, which he always carru-d 
 with him, broke in his hands. He grew frightfully 
 pale, and suffered the keenest alarm. 'Marmont,' 
 he said to me, ' my wife is either ill or unfaithful.' " 
 
 The excitement of war, so far from distracting 
 Bonaparte from his love, rendered him only more 
 ardent, eager, and enthusiastic. His impetuous na- 
 ture could easily be moved by two passions at once, 
 by his love for his wife and his love of glory. The 
 perpetual restlessness in which he lived made him a 
 ready victim of the tender passion. In his desires 
 there was an impatient, imperious, despotic qualit\-. 
 He could no more understand a woman's resistance 
 than the failure to win a victory. He summoned 
 Josephine ; consequently, Josephine must hasten to 
 him. Rather a lover than a husband, he had passed 
 but forty-eight hours with her since their marriage, 
 and all his sentiment had been aroused, without being 
 satiated. The careless Creole, who was unaccustomed 
 to such transports, was perhaps more surprised than 
 delighted by them. 
 
 M. Lanfrey has, in our opinion, given a very exact 
 account of the different feelings of Josephine and 
 her husband at this time, when he says, speaking of 
 Napoleon's love for his wife: "In this love, which has 
 been said to be the only one that touched his heart, 
 all the fire and flame of his masterful nature showed 
 itself. As for Josephine, in his presence she felt 
 more embarrassment and surprise than love. The
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 37 
 
 very genius which she saw glowing in his piercing 
 and commanding eye exercised over her amiable and 
 indolent nature a sort of fascination which she could 
 not feel without a secret terror, and before yielding 
 to it she wondered more than once whether the ex- 
 traordinary self-confidence manifested in the general's 
 most insignificant words might not be merely the 
 result of a young man's presumption which might 
 easily be destined to bitter disappointment." 
 
 Without doubt she was much flattered by Bona- 
 parte's early successes, but, as Marmont points out, 
 "she preferred enjoying her husband's triumphs in 
 Paris to joining him." To her it was a serious mat- 
 ter to leave her children, her relatives, and her life 
 in Paris, so admirably suited to her kindly, amiable, 
 affectionate but withal somewhat light and frivolous 
 nature. She liked that amusing and brilliant city, 
 which, though still shorn of its former animation, was 
 yet busy and charming. The theatres, which at that 
 time were crowded, the drawing-rooms, which were 
 slowly reopening, the elegance and courtly manners 
 of the old regime, which were appearing anew, the 
 palace of the Directory, all these things pleased 
 Josephine. As the poet Arnault says in his Souvenirs 
 of a Sexagenarian : " The Terror, which had so long 
 made Paris its prey, was followed by a period of 
 almost absolute indifference with regard to every- 
 thing except pleasure. By enjoyment of the present, 
 society anticipated the future and made up for the 
 past. The Luxembourg, of which the five Directors
 
 38 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 had taken possession, had already become what will 
 always be the place where authority rules, a court ; 
 and since it was open to women, they had introduced 
 softer manners. The Republicans began to abandon 
 their brutal ways and to see that gallantry was not 
 wholly incompatible with politics, and that indeed 
 skill might be shown in employing it as a way of 
 retaining power. The entertainments in which ladies 
 resumed the empire from which they had been driven 
 during the long reign of the Convention, showed 
 clearly that those in power thought less of destroying 
 the old customs than of imitating them. 
 
 Besides, all Madame Bonaparte's friends never 
 tired of telling her that her place was not in Italy ; 
 that the war had only begun ; that she should leave 
 the victorious general entirely to his military affairs, 
 his campaign plans, his strategy; and that a young 
 wife was not intended to take part in all the tumult 
 of a fight or the disorderliness of a camp. M. Aube- 
 nas, in his excellent History of the Empress Josephine, 
 says: "Madame Bonaparte has been severely criti- 
 cised for not hastening to Italy in the month of 
 April, at her husband's first summons, before the 
 victory of Lodi and the subjection of Lombardy; 
 but frankly, it was only her husband, whose genius 
 inspired him with confidence in his success, whose 
 love scorned every obstacle, who could have imag- 
 ined such excessive haste. Certainly, in the early 
 wars of the Republic, it was not usual to see the 
 general's wives following the armies. Prudence and
 
 MADAME BONAPABTE'S AERIVAL IN ITALY. 39 
 
 regulations, for obvious reasons, forbade such a course. 
 We have no intention of carving an image of Jose- 
 phine as a Romau heroine. To start out thus at once 
 to face all the fatigues and uncertainty of a great 
 war, to bivouac in the Italian towns, in a word, to 
 undertake the campaign, was an extreme demand to 
 make of this Creole nature in which indifference was 
 a fault as well as a charm." 
 
 Bonaparte could not tolerate such hesitation. In 
 order to persuade his wife to come to him, he wrote 
 a mass of letters, each more urgent than its prede- 
 cessor. The men of the old regime, who had paid 
 attention to Josephine, would probably have smiled 
 at the style and the manner. That a husband should 
 love his wife in that way would probably have 
 seemed to them a little vulgar. To be sure, they 
 used to read the Nouvelle Ifeloise, but nevertheless 
 they had not formed the habit of writing to their 
 legal wives tirades and hyperboles in imitation of 
 Jean Jacques. Alexander de Beauharnais had not pre- 
 pared his wife for love of this sort, which the fash- 
 ionable society of Versailles might have regarded as 
 proper for lovers, but absurd from a husband to his 
 wife. Madame Bonaparte did not take seriously her 
 husband's torrents of passion. As Arnault says: 
 44 Murat gave to Madame Bonaparte a letter in which 
 the young hero urged her speedy departure ; she 
 showed me this letter, as well as all he had written 
 since leaving her, and all expressed the most violent 
 passion. Josephine found a good deal of amusement
 
 40 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 in this feeling, which was not devoid of jealousy. I 
 seem to hear her once more reading one passage in 
 which her husband, in the effort to allay the suspi- 
 cions which evidently tortured him, said, ' But sup- 
 pose it true ! Fear Othello's dagger ! ' I hear her 
 say with her Creole accent, while she smiles, ' How 
 funny Bonaparte is ! " 
 
 Madame de Re'musat, unfavorable as she is to 
 Napoleon, and with every disposition to deny him 
 any trace of tenderness, is nevertheless compelled to 
 make this acknowledgment in her Memoirs : " For 
 Josephine he felt some affection, and if he was at 
 times moved, it was only for her and by her. Even 
 a Bonaparte cannot escape every feeling." Yes ; 
 Bonaparte knew the force of love. I ask no other 
 proof than the letter full of real eloquence and 
 ardent passion which he wrote to Josephine from 
 Tortona, June 15, 1796, and which at last induced 
 her to join a husband who loved her madly. Per- 
 haps there are traces here and there of Jean Jacques 
 Rousseau's declamatory eloquence, but still in this 
 volcanic style, emotion and truth and accents of 
 sincere conviction are very manifest. 
 
 "Tortona, Midday, the 27th Prairial, Year IV. of the 
 Republic [June 15, 1796]. 
 
 "To JOSEPHINE. 
 
 " My life is a perpetual nightmare. A black pre- 
 sentiment makes breathing difficult. I am no longer 
 alive ; I have lost more than life, more than happi-
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 41 
 
 ness, more than peace ; I am almost without hope. 
 I am sending you a courier. He will stay only four 
 hours in Paris, and then will bring me your answer. 
 Write to me ten pages ; that is the only thing that 
 can console me in the least. You are ill ; you love 
 me ; I have distressed you ; you are with child ; and 
 I don't see you. This thought overwhelms me. 
 [Symptoms which amounted to nothing had in fact 
 delayed Josephine's departure for Italy, and her 
 husband reproached himself for having been unkind 
 to her.] I have treated you so ill that I do not 
 know how to set myself right in your eyes. -I have 
 been blaming you for staying in Paris, and you have 
 been ill there. Forgive me, my dear ; the love with 
 which you have rilled me has robbed me of my 
 reason, and I shall never recover it. It is a malady 
 from which there is no recovery. My forebodings 
 are so gloomy that all I ask is to see you, to hold 
 you in my arms for two hours, and that we may die 
 together. Who is taking care of you? I suppose 
 that you have sent for Hortense; I love the dear 
 child a thousand times better since I think that she 
 may console you a little. As for me, I am without 
 consolation, rest, and hope until I see again the mes- 
 senger whom I am sending to you, and until you 
 explain to me in a long letter just what is the matter 
 with you and how serious it is. If there were any 
 danger, I warn you that I should start at once for 
 Paris. ... I have always been fortunate ; never 
 has my fate opposed my wishes, and to-day I am
 
 42 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 wounded when alone : I am sensitive. . . . With no 
 appetite, unable to sleep, having lost all interest in 
 friendship, in glory, in my country. You ! you ! and 
 the rest of the world will not exist for me any more 
 than if it had been annihilated, fl care for honor, 
 because you care for it , for victory, because it brings 
 you pleasure : otherwise I should have abandoned 
 everything to throw myself at your feet/'^y 
 
 Walter Scott says, in his Life of Napoleon : " A part 
 of his correspondence with his bride has been pre- 
 served, and gives a curious picture of a temperament 
 as fiery in love as in war. The language of the con- 
 queror, who was disposing states at his pleasure and 
 defeating the most celebrated commanders of his 
 time, is as enthusiastic as that of an Arcadian." 
 
 The last lines of the letter we have quoted above 
 certainly confirm the great novelist's remark: "My 
 dear, do remember to tell me that you are certain 
 that I love you more than can be imagined , that you 
 are convinced that my every moment is devoted to 
 you ; that no hour passes that I do not think of you ; 
 that it has never entered my mind to think of any other 
 woman ; that to me they all lack grace, beauty, and 
 intelligence ; that you, you as I see you, as you are, 
 can please me and absorb my whole soul; that you 
 have wholly filled it ; that my heart has no corners 
 that you do not see, no thoughts that are not subordi- 
 nate to you ; that my strength, my arms, my intelli- 
 gence, are all yours ; that my soul is in your body ; 
 and that the day when you shall have changed or
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE 1 S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 43 
 
 shall have ceased to live will be the day of my 
 death ; that nature, the earth, is beautiful in my 
 eyes only because you live on it. If you do not 
 believe that, if your soul is not convinced, penetrated, 
 you distress me, you do not love me. There is a mag- 
 netic fluid between two persons who are in love. You 
 know that I could never endure to see you in love 
 with any one, still less endure that you should have 
 a lover ; to tear out his heart and to see him would 
 be one and the same thing, and then, if I could raise 
 my hand against your sacred person No ! I should 
 never dare, but I should at once abandon a life in 
 which the most virtuous being in the world had de- 
 ceived me." This letter, in which his jealousy thus 
 breaks forth, ends with an outburst of confidence and 
 enthusiasm : " I am certain and proud of your love. 
 Our misfortunes are trials which only strengthen the 
 force of our passion. A child as lovely as its mamma 
 will one day be born to you. Wretch that I am, I 
 only ask one day. A thousand kisses on your eyes, 
 your lips. Adorable woman, how great a power you 
 have over me ! I am ill with thy complaint ! I have 
 again a burning fever ! Don't delay the courier more 
 than six hours, and let him return at once with the 
 dear letter of my queen." 
 
 Josephine could not withstand this appeal. She 
 was quite recovered, and she was to be installed in 
 splendor at Milan. Nevertheless, according to one 
 of her intimate friends, the poet Arnault, she felt 
 very sad at leaving Paris. He speaks thus about this
 
 44 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 delicate matter in his curious and witty Memoirs: 
 "Josephine was evidently flattered by the love with 
 which she inspired so wonderful a man as Bonaparte, 
 although she treated the matter much more lightly 
 than he ; she was proud to see that he loved her as 
 much as he loved glory ; she enjoyed this glory, which 
 was growing every day, but she preferred enjoying 
 it in Paris, amid the applause which always followed 
 her Avith every new bulletin from the Army of Italy. 
 Her grief was extreme when she saw that she could 
 no longer postpone her departure. She thought much 
 more of what she was leaving than of what she was 
 going to find, and she would have given the palace 
 at Milan that was made ready for her, she would 
 have given all the palaces in the world for her house 
 in the rue Chantereine, for the little house she had 
 just bought of Talma. ... It was from the Luxem- 
 bourg that she started for Italy, after supping there 
 with some of her friends, of whom I was one. . . . 
 Poor woman ! she burst into tears, and sobbed as if 
 she were going to her execution : she was going to 
 reign." 
 
 The passport which the Directory gave to Madame 
 Bonaparte bore the date of June 24, 1796. A few 
 days afterwards she reached Milan, entering the city 
 in a carriage in which were her brother-in-law Joseph, 
 Junot, her husband's aide-de-camp, and a young officer 
 named Hippolyte Charles, a captain on the staff of 
 Adjutant-General Leclerc. The Duke of Serbelloni, 
 who had gone to meet her at the gates of the city,
 
 MADAME BONAPARTE'S ARRIVAL IN ITALY. 46 
 
 followed in a second carriage. Unfortunately, when 
 she arrived, Bonaparte was away on some military 
 duty, and it was not for several days that he had the 
 pleasure of seeing her. Marmont, who had been sent 
 on ahead of Josephine, and had seen the numerous 
 attentions paid to her by the Sardinian court, as she 
 passed through Piedmont, says of the meeting of the 
 happy couple : " Once at Milan, General Bonaparte 
 was very happy, for then he lived only for his wife ; 
 for a long time this had been the case : never did a 
 purer, truer, or more exclusive love fill a man's heart, 
 or the heart of so extraordinary a man."
 
 V. 
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 
 
 BONAPARTE'S condition had been greatly 
 changed since he had parted from Josephine, 
 and she must have been greatly surprised at seeing 
 the ' position he occupied. Great results had been 
 obtained, and he wore an air of victorious superiority, 
 such as belonged to but few kings or princes. The 
 archduke who had ruled over Lombardy a few weeks 
 earlier had been far from possessing such authority. 
 Bonaparte did not occupy the archduke's palace, 
 lest he should offend the republican susceptibilities 
 of the Directory ; but he had a truly princely resi- 
 dence, the palace of a great and noble patriot of 
 Milan, the Duke of Serbelloni. He had just been 
 negotiating as an equal with the King of Sardinia, 
 the Pope, the Duke of Modena, and the Grand Duke 
 of Tuscany. Venice and Genoa had just been over- 
 come by force and political manoeuvring; Rome and 
 Naples had been detached from the coalition ; Upper 
 Italy freed from the Austrian yoke ; the most won- 
 derful masterpieces of antiquity had been sent to 
 Paris as part of the booty of the campaign: these 
 were the marvels wrought in a very few days. 
 
 46
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 47 
 
 From the Alps to the Apennines, from the moun- 
 tains of Tyrol to Vesuvius, the whole peninsula 
 resounded with the name of Bonaparte. But he had 
 to sustain this brilliant r61e, and preserve the glory 
 he had so swiftly acquired. Austria was raising 
 armies much superior in numbers to the force they 
 were to meet. The Pope and the Neapolitan court 
 were most ardently devoted to the success of the 
 Austrians. At the first reverse of the young con- 
 queror this framework of power which he had built 
 up so gloriously would fall to the ground like a card 
 house. Liberal ideas were then only on the surface 
 in Italy ; below them ruled the spirit of reaction. 
 He could not count on Venice, where the old aris- 
 tocracy was full of uneasiness ; nor on the King of 
 Sardinia, who yearned for revenge ; nor on the King 
 of Naples, whose wife was the sister of Queen Marie 
 Antoinette ; nor on the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who 
 was an Austrian Archduke ; nor on the Republic of 
 Genoa, with its oligarchy in the pay of England ; nor 
 on the Pope, who looked only with horror on an 
 army of Jacobins. In short, everything had to be 
 done over again ; and no sooner had he had the joy 
 of seeing his wife than he was compelled to leave 
 her again for the wars. His love was so impetuous 
 that he even determined to take Josephine with him. 
 This was an unheard-of innovation ; but Bonaparte 
 was not accustomed to imitating others : he did only 
 what seemed good to him. 
 
 He left Milan to try to capture Mantua before the
 
 48 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 arrival of the army commanded by Wurmser, and, 
 July 6, 1796, wrote from Roverbella to Josephine, 
 who had stayed in Milan: " I have beaten the enemy; 
 Kilmaine will send you a copy of my report. I am 
 dead tired. I beg of you to go at once to Verona: 
 I need you, for I believe I am going to be ill. I 
 send you a thousand kisses. I am in bed." July 
 11, there is another letter, from Verona: "I had 
 hardly left Roverbella when I learned that the 
 enemy was appearing before Verona. Masse*na made 
 the preparations, which turned out most fortunately. 
 We have taken six hundred prisoners and captured 
 their cannon. General Brune had seven bullets 
 through his clothes, but not a scratch: that's good 
 luck. I send you a thousand kisses. I am very well. 
 We had only ten killed and a hundred wounded." 
 July 17, Bonaparte wrote from Marmirolo to Jose- 
 phine a letter worthy of the most ardent lover : " I 
 have received your letter, my dear one, and it fills my 
 heart with joy. I am very grateful to you for your 
 trouble in sending me word about yourself: you 
 ought to be better to-day. I am sure that you must 
 be quite well. I beg of you to ride on horseback ; it 
 can't fail to do you good. Since I left you I have 
 been continually sad. My only happiness is to be 
 with you. I am continually recalling your kisses, 
 your tears, your kind jealousy, and the fair Jose- 
 phine's charms are forever kindling a blazing fire in 
 my heart and my senses. When, free from all un- 
 easiness and all business, shall I be able to pass all
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 49 
 
 my time with you, to have nothing to do but to love 
 you, and to think of nothing but of the happiness of 
 telling and proving it to you ? I will send you your 
 horse, but I hope that you will soon be able to join 
 me." 
 
 The letter concludes with an outburst of enthusi- 
 astic passion: "A few days ago I thought I loved 
 you ; but since I have seen you I feel that I love you 
 a thousand times more. Since I have known you, I 
 adore you every day more: this proves that- what 
 La Bruye're says about love coming in a flash, is 
 false. Everything in nature has its course and dif- 
 ferent stages of growth. Ah ! I beg of you let me 
 see some of your faults! Be less beautiful, less 
 graceful, less tender, less kind ; above all, be never 
 jealous, never weep : your tears rob me of my reason ; 
 they fire my blood. Be sure that it is not in my 
 power to have a thought which is not yours or an 
 idea which does not refer to you. Rest well ; be 
 strong soon. Come to me and let us at least be able 
 to say before we die, So many days we were happy ! 
 Millions of kisses, and even to Fortune*, in spite of 
 his crossness." Fortune* was Josephine's lap-dog. 
 
 July 18, there was another letter, also written at 
 Marmirolo : " I have spent the whole night under 
 arms. I should have taken Mantua by a bold and 
 lucky blow, had not the water of the lake fallen so 
 rapidly that my column, which had embarked, could 
 not get there. This evening I am going to try again, 
 a different plan. ... I have a letter from Eugene,
 
 50 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 which I enclose. I beg of you to write for me to the 
 dear children, and to send them some trinkets. Tell 
 them that I love them as if they were my own chil- 
 dren. Yours and mine are so mingled in my heart 
 that there is no difference. I am very anxious to 
 know how you are and what you are doing. I have 
 been to Virgil's village, on the banks of the lake, in 
 the silvery light of the moon, and there was not a 
 moment when I did not think of Josephine." 
 
 Michelet, in his volume entitled Until the 18th 
 Brumaire, comments as follows on this sentence : 
 "In the course of the siege of Mantua, Bonaparte 
 said to Josephine in a sentimental letter, which bears 
 all the marks of the taste of the time, that while think- 
 ing of her, in melancholy revery, he had visited Vir- 
 gil's village on the lake in the moonlight. It was 
 doubtless then that he conceived the notion of the 
 festival in honor of the great poet, which he ordered 
 later, and which was of great service to him with 
 society, nurtured in worship of the classics. In 
 engravings we often see the hero of Italy near Vir- 
 gil's tomb and under the shadow of his laurel." 
 
 Whatever may be said, there was a tender and sen- 
 timental chord in Napoleon's character. " Nature had 
 given him," says the Duke of Ragusa in his Memoirs, 
 " a grateful and kindly, I might almost say sensitive, 
 heart. This assertion will contradict many fixed but 
 inaccurate opinions. His sensitiveness evaporated in 
 time, but in the course of my writing I shall narrate 
 incidents and give undeniable proofs of the accuracy
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 51 
 
 of my opinion." Napoleon was fond of poetry. It 
 was he who said at Saint Helena, " Imagination rules 
 the world." In literature, nothing ever seemed to 
 him high enough, ideal enough. His whole child- 
 hood was passed in ardent meditation upon the poets 
 and great men. He was equally interested in Homel- 
 and Alexander, in Virgil and Csesar. As a student 
 of Plutarch and Jean Jacques Rousseau, he belonged 
 to the idealist school, and he admired everything 
 great, everything beautiful. He loved love as he 
 loved glory; that is to say, without bounds. The 
 style of his proclamations and bulletins harmonizes 
 with that of his love-letters. As hero or as lover, he 
 is always the same man. 
 
 Bonaparte wrote again from Marmirolo, July 19 : 
 " I have not heard from you for two days ; I have 
 said this same thing thirty times to-day ; you will see 
 that this is very gloomy ; nevertheless, you cannot 
 doubt of the tender and single interest you inspire 
 me with. Yesterday we attacked Mantua. We set 
 it on fire with two batteries firing red-hot balls and 
 shells. The unhappy city burned all night. It was a 
 horrible and impressive sight. We have got possession 
 of many of the outlying works, and open our trenches 
 to-night. I am to transfer headquarters to Casti- 
 glione to-morrow, and I mean to sleep there. I have 
 received a courier from Paris. There were two let- 
 ters for you ; I have read them. Nevertheless, although 
 this act seems to me perfectly simple, and you gave 
 me free leave the other day, I fear that you may
 
 52 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 be annoyed, and this thought distresses me much. 
 I should have liked to seal them again. Fie ! that 
 would have been disgraceful. If I am to blame, I 
 beg your pardon ; I give you my word that I was not 
 moved by jealousy : no, certainly, I respect my dear 
 one too much for that. I wish you would give me 
 absolute permission to read your letters ; then I should 
 suffer from neither remorse nor fear. Achille has 
 come with despatches from Milan ; no letters from 
 my dear one ! Farewell, my only love ! When can 
 we meet? I shall come to Milan myself to get you. 
 A thousand kisses, as warm as my heart, as pure as 
 you are. I have had the courier summoned: he tells 
 me that he called on you, and that you said you had 
 nothing for him. Shame ! wicked, ugly, cruel tyrant ; 
 pretty little monster ! You laugh at my threats, at 
 my foolishness ; ah, if I only could put you in my 
 heart, you know I should lock you up there ! Tell 
 me that you are happy, well, and very loving." 
 
 From Castiglione, Bonaparte wrote to Josephine, 
 July 21 : "I hope that I shall find a letter from you 
 when I arrive this evening. You know, dear Jose- 
 phine, what pleasure your letters give me ; and I 
 am sure you like to write them. I leave, tins even- 
 ing, for Peschiera and Verona ; then I shall go to 
 Mantua, and possibly to Milan, to get a kiss, since 
 you assure me they are not of ice. I hope to find 
 you perfectly recovered, and that you will be able to 
 go to headquarters with me, and not to leave me 
 again. Are you not the soul of my life and the
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 53 
 
 passion of my heart? Good by, lovely and kind 
 creature, without a rival, you dear goddess ; a thou- 
 sand loving kisses ! " 
 
 But Wurmser was advancing. Bonaparte could 
 not go to Milan for Josephine ; but he persuaded her 
 to join him, by means of this letter from Castiglione, 
 July 22: "The army requires my presence here; it 
 is quite impossible for me to go so far away as Milan. 
 That would take five or six days ; and in that time 
 something might happen which would make my 
 presence indispensable. You tell me you are per- 
 fectly well ; then, I beg of you to come to Brescia. 
 I am sending Murat to prepare a lodging for you 
 there, such as you want. I think you would do well 
 to rest on the 6th [Thermidor], and to leave Milan 
 very late, reaching Brescia on the 7th, where the 
 most devoted of lovers will be awaiting you. I am 
 sorry that you can imagine, my dear one, that my 
 heart has room for any one besides you : it belongs 
 to you by right of conquest, and this conquest will 
 be solid and eternal. 1 don't know why you men- 
 tion Madame T., in whom I take veiy little interest, 
 as in the women of Brescia. As to those letters 
 which you are sorry I opened, this one shall be 
 the last; your letter had not reached me. Good 
 by, my dear; let me hear from you often. Come 
 speedily to me ; be happy and perfectly easy : all is 
 going on well, and my heart is yours for life. Don't 
 fail to return to Adjutant-General Miollis the box of 
 medals that he wrote to me he had given to you.
 
 54 CITIZEN ESS BONAPAHTE. 
 
 Mankind is so malicious and gossiping that one cannot 
 be too careful. Be well, love me, and come soon to 
 Brescia. At Milan, I have a carriage for both town 
 and country use : you will use that for your journey. 
 Bring what silverware you need, and whatever may 
 be necessary. Travel slowly, and in the cool of the 
 day, to avoid getting tired. It takes the soldiers only 
 three days to go to Brescia. You can post for four- 
 teen hours of the way. I advise you to sleep, the 
 6th, at Cassano : I will go as far as I can Jo meet 
 you, on the 7th. Good by, dear Josephine ! a thou- 
 sand loving kisses." 
 
 By thus calling his wife to him, in time of war, 
 between two battles, Bonaparte seemed to be doing 
 something very rash ; yet for at that time he was 
 always successful he perhaps owed his safety to 
 this apparently unjustifiable resolution. Josephine 
 seemed his good angel. We may say that through- 
 out his career, so long as he was with her, he always 
 enjoyed the most brilliant success. A gambler 
 and politics is a game, like almost all other human 
 things would say that she brought him good luck. 
 
 Josephine did not fail to meet him at Brescia, as 
 he had appointed; but scarcely had they got there 
 when, July 28, they had to leave. Wurmser had 
 received word of the critical condition of Mantua, 
 and had hastened his march some eight or ten days, 
 which compelled the French army to hasten in its 
 turn. General de Se*gur says in his Memoirs : " To 
 picture the disorder, the urgent peril into which
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 55 
 
 Wurmser's double attack at first threw Bonaparte, 
 let us listen to Josephine herself, who used to take 
 pleasure in telling us how, when the movement 
 began, she was quietly in Brescia, and the provedi- 
 tore was trying to tempt her to stay one night longer, 
 by proposing a grand entertainment. It was she, 
 she told me, who refused so obstinately that she per- 
 suaded Bonaparte to leave at once. This happy 
 inspiration saved them. They were not four leagues 
 from Brescia when the Austrians, in league with the 
 proveditore, entered in large force. Bonaparte would 
 have been captured at the ball, and either put to 
 death or made prisoner of war." 
 
 The next day Josephine was of no less service to 
 her husband. At dawn the two reached a castle 
 close to Verona, escorted by twenty men at the most; 
 there they were assailed by other forces of the enemy 
 who had come down the Adige. Josephine's eyes, 
 which were better than her husband's, had given her 
 notice of this new danger, and he fancied that he 
 saved her from it by sending her to the shores of 
 Lake Garda. But there, on the other hand, she 
 was greeted by new bullets from a hostile flotilla 
 which controlled the lake. Abandoning her carriage, 
 she mounted a horse and fled to Peschiera, where 
 Bonaparte, who had received word, sent for her. 
 She rejoined him at Castiglione. At every step she 
 came across soldiers wounded in the skirmishes pre- 
 ceding the great battles. 
 
 Bonaparte, seeing her in such peril, decided to
 
 50 CITIZEN ESS BONAPAETE. 
 
 make her return to Brescia; but Josephine was 
 stopped by a division of the enemy which had 
 already reached Ponte Marco on its way towards 
 Lonato. She was obliged to retrace her steps and 
 to return to Castiglione, where Bonaparte still was. 
 " At that time," says the Memorial of Saint Helena, 
 " in the anxiety and excitement of the moment, she 
 was frightened and wept much." When Bonaparte 
 heard that the Austrians had entered Brescia and 
 that his communications with Milan were cut off, he 
 sent his wife to Central Italy, making her pass before 
 Mantua, which was still besieged by the French. 
 Moved by the sorrow she showed in parting from 
 him, he said, "Wurmser will have to pay dear for 
 the tears he has caused you." 
 
 Since his marriage Bonaparte had passed but very 
 few days with Josephine, and his love for her pro- 
 duced a certain excitement which made him ready to 
 do great things. His wife's tears moved him deeply. 
 " I s"hall console her," he said to himself, " she shall 
 have every joy and glory. To that face now wet 
 with tears I shall bring the glow of happiness." 
 The climate of Italy, the bright sun, the clear sky, 
 the summer heat, the excitement of war, the smell 
 of powder, the fierceness of the conflict, the ardor of 
 youth, all combined to fire the vivid imagination of 
 the hero. He has reached one of those periods in 
 the careers of great men, when they feel themselves 
 lifted above the earth by a supernatural breath, and 
 they are moved by a mysterious force, as if they
 
 JOSEPHINE AT THE WAR. 57 
 
 were divinely inspired. Men of action and artists 
 know those privileged moments when they become 
 capable of wonders. With the character that he 
 possessed, Bonaparte could not appear before Jose- 
 phine as a beaten man. He wanted to dazzle, to 
 fascinate her, to wring from her cries of admiration, 
 to cover her with glory. If he had been beaten, he 
 would have scorned all pity and consolation. His 
 patriotism and his love fired him with the determi- 
 nation to triumph. His nature, already compact of 
 energy, renewed its strength and audacity, and he 
 was irresistible. It was when he saw Josephine in 
 tears that love, ambition, pride, and hunger for 
 victory took possession of his soul and gave to his 
 genius a fire, an impulse, a development, such as it is 
 hard to conceive. He said : " I shall see her again, 
 and it will be when I shall have triumphed." Hence 
 he had to conquer at any price. He wished victory 
 for the sake of France and for the sake of Josephine. 
 That day he had no mistrust of fortune ; he believed 
 in his lucky star more firmly than ever. A secret 
 voice said to him, " Forward ! " Josephine herself 
 must have been reassured by her husband's eagle 
 glance. The six days' campaign was about to open. 
 A woman's love was the talisman with which Bona- 
 parte was about to work miracles. 
 
 Nevertheless, Josephine was in flight, passing in 
 her carriage very near to besieged Mantua. She was 
 fired on from the town, and some of her escort were 
 hit. (icnerul do Sdjnir narrates what she herself told
 
 68 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 him that, as they were passing by within gunshot, 
 the firing was so hot that she was obliged to take 
 refuge in a chapel. A soldier ran up to urge them 
 to leave, showing them some Austrian cannon aimed 
 at that dangerous place. In fact, she had scarcely 
 got away before the cannon-balls destroyed the 
 building. She crossed the Po, and reached Lucca, 
 going through Bologna and Ferrara, " pursued," says 
 the Memorial of Saint Helena, " by fear and all the 
 evil rumors which generally accompanied our armies, 
 yet supported by her confidence in her husband's 
 star. Already such was the state of public opinion 
 in Italy and such the feeling inspired by the French 
 general, that, in spite of the dangers of the moment 
 and all the false rumors that were current, his wife 
 was received at Lucca by the Senate and treated like 
 a great princess: it went to congratulate her and pre- 
 sented her with gifts of precious oils. It was justi- 
 fied in these rejoicings, for a few days later messages 
 announced her husband's wonderful successes and 
 the total defeat of Wurmser." Just when she had 
 crossed the Po, and put that river between herself 
 and Wurmser's uhlans, Josephine received a letter 
 from Bonaparte, dated August 4, in which, discount- 
 ing the future, he announced to her, as already won, 
 the victory of the next day.
 
 VI. 
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND ARCOLE. 
 
 AT Wurmser's approach, Bonaparte exclaimed, 
 " We are now to watch each other ; bad luck 
 to him who makes a mistake ! " Bonaparte made no 
 mistake. His army consisted of only forty-two thou- 
 sand men ; that of his adversary, of sixty thousand. 
 The foes of France uttered cries of joy. At Venice, 
 the soldiers thronged the public places and held out 
 their hands to the passers-by, asking for the price of 
 the French blood which they were about to shed. 
 At Rome, the French agents were insulted. The 
 court of Naples broke the armistice. Italy was called 
 the grave of the French. On hearing that the Aus- 
 trians were about to cross the Adige at every point, 
 that retreat on Milan was cut off, that the position at 
 Rivoli was to be forced as well as at Corona, Bona- 
 parte, July 3, called a council of war. The generals 
 favored a retreat. Augereau alone held out for 
 fighting: this was also Bonaparte's opinion. 
 
 The town of Castiglione, which lies ten leagues 
 to the northeast of Mantua, and three leagues 
 south of Lonato, is within reach of two Tyrolese
 
 60 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 passes, that of the Adige, to the eastward of 
 Lake Garda, and that of the west shore of this 
 lake. Although the enemy had forced the line of 
 the Adige, the position was so favorable that it pre- 
 sented many advantages to a man of Bonaparte's 
 audacious genius. Raising the siege of Mantua, 
 because he knew that in moments of great peril, to 
 try to save everything is the sure way to lose every- 
 thing, he concentrated all his forces at the end of 
 the lake. Then, pursuing his usual tactics, he, by 
 his swift movements, doubled his strength, and 
 wherever he gave battle it was with equal or supe- 
 rior force. Successful at Lonato, August 3d, and on 
 the 5th at Castiglione, he wrote on the 8th to the 
 Directory that the Austrian army had vanished like 
 a dream and that Italy was tranquil. Wurmser had 
 just withdrawn, leaving ninety cannon, and twenty- 
 five thousand picked men killed or captured. August 
 9, Bonaparte wrote a letter thanking the city of 
 Milan for remaining faithful to him: " The ardor and 
 the character which the city has displayed," he said, 
 "have won the esteem and the love of France; its 
 population, which is ever becoming more energetic, 
 becomes every day more worthy to be free: some 
 day, without doubt, it will enter on the stage of the 
 world with glory." Marmont wrote to his father: 
 "In the last week I have not slept four hours. 
 There are none of the enemy left for us to fight 
 with, and we are going, I hope, to enjoy our triumphs." 
 Bonaparte, who had returned to Brescia August 10,
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND AECOLE. 61 
 
 wrote that same evening to Josephine, who, after the 
 victory at Castiglione, had been able to return to 
 Milan without difficulty. " I have just arrived, and 
 my first thought is to write to you. All the way I 
 have been thinking of nothing but your health and 
 your image. I shall not be easy till I have heard 
 from you. I am waiting impatiently ; I can't express 
 my uneasiness. I left you sad, depressed, and half 
 ill. If the sincerest and tenderest love can make you 
 happy, you must be so. ... I am up to my ears 
 in work. Good by, my sweet Josephine ; love me 
 well, keep well, and think of me often." 
 
 After renewing the siege of Mantua, Bonaparte 
 went to Milan, where he spent a fortnight with his 
 wife. Wurmser, who had fled to the Tyrol, wanted 
 to resume the offensive ; and Austria was about to 
 raise a new army, that of Alvinzy. Bonaparte had 
 to begin the campaign once more. He left Josephine 
 at Milan, and started again for the war with that 
 untiring zeal which was the amazement and the 
 despair of his enemies. All these preoccupations, 
 dangers, and battles could not distract him from his 
 love, which was continually growing in intensity. It 
 was a perpetual fever. When he had reached Bres- 
 cia, he wrote to Josephine, August 31 : "I leave at 
 once for Verona. I had hopes of finding a letter from 
 you ; this leaves me in horrible anxiety. You were 
 not very well before I left; I beg of you, don't leave 
 me in such anxiety. You had promised to be more 
 thoughtful ; yet your words then agreed with your
 
 62 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 heart. . . . You, to whom nature has given sweet- 
 ness, gentleness, and every attractive quality, how 
 can you forget one who loves you so warmly ? Three 
 days without a word from you, and I have written to 
 you several times. This absence is horrible ; the 
 nights are long, tiresome, dull ; the days are monot- 
 onous. To-day, alone with my thoughts, my work, 
 my writing, with men and their tedious plans, I 
 have not even one note from you to press against my 
 heart. Headquarters have gone on ; I follow in an 
 hour. I have received an express from Paris this 
 evening ; there was nothing for you but the enclosed 
 letter, which will give you pleasure. Think of me ; 
 live for me ; be often with your loving one ; and 
 believe that the only misfortune he dreads is to be 
 loved no longer by Josephine. A thousand gentle, 
 loving, exclusive kisses ! " 
 
 Another letter, from Ala, September 3, 1796: 
 " We are in the midst of the campaign, my dear one ; 
 we have overthrown the enemy's posts and have cap- 
 tured eight or ten horses with as many men. I hope 
 that we shall have good luck, and enter Trent the 
 19th [Fructidor], No letters from you, and this 
 makes me really uneasy ; still I hear that you are 
 well, and that you have even been out sailing 
 on Lake Como. I am impatiently expecting every 
 day the courier with word from you ; you know how 
 much I want to hear from you. I do not really live, 
 away from you; my life's happiness is only to be 
 with my sweet Josephine. Think of me ! write to
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND ARCOLE. 63 
 
 me often, very often : it is the only balm in absence, 
 which is cruel, but I hope will be short." 
 
 Bonaparte's soldiers rivalled the Alpine hunters in 
 boldness and activity : they clambered over the rocks 
 to the mountain tops, and thence sent a plunging fire 
 upon the enemy below. The swiftness of their heroic 
 deeds was most remarkable. September 4, the victory 
 of Roveredo ; the 5th, entrance into Trent ; the pur- 
 suit of Wurmser in the gorges of the Brenta ; the 
 seizure of the defile of Primolano; September 8th, 
 the victory of Bassano. Two hours later, the suc- 
 cessful general wrote to the Directory : " In six days 
 we have fought two battles and four skirmishes ; we 
 have taken twenty-one flags from the enemy ; made 
 sixteen thousand prisoners, including several gener- 
 als ; the rest have been killed, wounded, or scattered 
 to the four winds. In these six days, continually 
 fighting in inexpugnable gorges, we have made forty- 
 five leagues, captured seventy cannon with their 
 caissons and horses, a great part of the ammunition, 
 and large stores." 
 
 September 10, Bonaparte wrote from Montebello 
 to his wife: "My dear, the enemy has had eighteen 
 thousand men taken prisoner : the rest are killed or 
 wounded. Wurmser, with a column of five hundred 
 horse and five thousand men, has no resource but 
 to throw himself into Mantua. Never have we had 
 such constant and important success. Italy, Trieste, 
 and the Tyrol are secured for the Republic. The 
 Emperor will have to raise a second army ; artillery,
 
 64 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 pontoons, baggage, everything has been captured. 
 In a few days we shall meet; that is the sweetest 
 reward of my fatigue and my cares. A thousand 
 ardent and loving kisses." 
 
 While Bonaparte was winning these astounding 
 victories, what was Josephine's state of mind at 
 Milan ? To tell the truth, Josephine was bored. M. 
 Aubenas has published a letter which she wrote at 
 this time to her aunt, Madame de Renaudin, who had 
 just married the Marquis of Beauharnais. This letter, 
 which has been preserved among the papers of the 
 Tascher de la Pagerie family, betrays the melancholy 
 which came over Josephine in her separation from her 
 children and her Paris friends. The Duke of Serbel- 
 loni who was going to Paris, was the bearer of this let- 
 ter, which ran thus : " M. Serbelloni will tell you, my 
 dear aunt, how I have been received in Italy, feted 
 everywhere, all the Italian princes giving me enter- 
 tainments, even the Grand Duke of Tuscany, the 
 Emperor's brother. Well ! I had rather be a simple 
 private person in France. I don't like the honors of 
 this country. I am frightfully bored. It is true that 
 the state of my health has something to do with my 
 low spirits ; I am often ailing. If happiness could 
 make me well, I ought to be in the very best health ; 
 I have the best husband that can be imagined. I have 
 no chance to want anything. My wishes are his. He 
 adores me all day long, as if I were a goddess ; there 
 cannot be a better husband. M. Serbelloni will tell 
 you how much I am loved. He often writes to my
 
 HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS 
 
 QUEEN OF HOLLAND
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND ARCOLE. 65 
 
 children ; he loves them much. He sends to Hor- 
 tense, by M. Serbelloni a handsome watch, a repeater, 
 enamelled and set in small pearls ; to Eugene, a fine 
 gold watch. . . . Good by, my dear aunt, my dear 
 mamma ; do not forget how much I love you. I shall 
 try to send you a little money for the purpose you 
 mentioned at the first opportunity." 
 
 At the same time Josephine wrote to her daughter 
 Hortense from Milan, September 6, 1796, as follows : 
 " The t)uke of Serbelloni is leaving for Paris, and 
 has promised to go to Saint Germain, my dear Hor- 
 tense, the day after his arrival. He will tell you how 
 much I think and speak of and how much I love 
 you ! Eugene also partakes of these feelings, my 
 dear girl ; I love you both very dearly. M. Serbelloni 
 will bring you from Bonaparte and me some little 
 souvenirs for you, Emilie, Eugene, and Jerome. Give 
 my love to Madame Campan ; I am going to send her 
 some fine engravings and drawings from Italy. Kiss 
 my dear Eugene, Emilie, and Jerome for me. Good 
 by, my dear Hortense, my dear girl. Think often 
 of your mamma ; write to her often ; your letters 
 and your brother's will console me for my absence 
 from my dear children ; I kiss you affectionately." 
 
 The untiring Bonaparte continued his victorious 
 course. September 15, he compelled Wurmser to 
 take refuge in Mantua. But amid all his successes, 
 he was unhappy because Josephine's letters were too 
 rare. He wrote to her, September 17, from Verona, 
 this melancholy epistle : " I write to you very often,
 
 66 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 and you write very seldom. You are a wicked, ugly 
 woman, as ugly as you are frivolous. It is a bit of 
 perfidy to deceive a husband, a doting lover, in this 
 way ! Must he lose all his rights because he is away, 
 overwhelmed with work, fatigue, and trouble ? How 
 can he help it? Yesterday we had a very hot fight; 
 the enemy lost heavily and was thoroughly beaten. 
 We captured the suburb of Mantua. Good by, dear 
 Josephine. One of these nights your door will be 
 burst open, as if a jealous husband were breaking in, 
 and I shall be in your arms. A thousand loving 
 kisses." 
 
 A letter from Modena, October 17, is likewise 
 filled with sadness. " Day before yesterday I was in 
 the field all day. Yesterday I stayed in bed. A 
 fever and a raging headache prevented me from 
 writing to my dear one ; but I received her letters. 
 I pressed them to my heart and my lips; and the 
 pang of absence, a hundred miles apart, vanished. 
 At that moment, I saw you with me, not capricious 
 and vexed, but gentle, loving, with that grace of 
 kindness which belongs to Josephine alone. It was 
 a dream ; judge for yourself whether it relieved my 
 fever. Your letters are as cold as fifty years of age ; 
 one would think they had been written after we had 
 been married fifteen years. They are full of the 
 friendliness and feelings of life's winter. Shame ! 
 Josephine. It is very wicked, very bad, very traitor- 
 ous of you. What more can you do to distress me ? 
 Stop loving me ? That you have already done. Hate
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND AECOLE. 67 
 
 me ? Well, I wish you would : everything degrades 
 me except hatred; but indifference with a calm 
 pulse, fixed eyes, monotonous walk ! . . . A thou- 
 sand kisses, tender, like my heart. I am a little 
 better, and shall leave to-morrow. The English are 
 evacuating the Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. 
 Good news for France and for the army ! " 
 
 Between Wurmser's entrance into Mantua, Sep- 
 tember 18, and Alvinzy's arrival on the Brenta and 
 the Adige, early in November, there was a respite in 
 the military movements of about five or six weeks. 
 During this time Bonaparte was opposing the policy 
 of the Directory, which was hostile to his views, and 
 failed to send him the necessary re-enforcements. 
 The troops who had been often promised failed to 
 arrive. There was no money to pay the soldiers. 
 The Army of Italy was reduced to thirty-three thou- 
 sand men : and it was with this insufficient force 
 that he was expected to retake Corsica ; control the 
 whole peninsula ; besiege twenty-two thousand Aus- 
 trians who had taken refuge in Mantua ; intimidate 
 the Roman and Neapolitan courts, which were driven 
 to extremities by the unreasonable demands of the 
 Directory; and, in addition, oppose the new and 
 formidable Austrian force under the command of 
 Alvinzy. 
 
 Bonaparte became impatient. October 6, he wrote 
 to the Directory: "Everything in Italy is going to 
 ruin. The glory of our forces is fading away. Our 
 numbers are counted. The influence of Rome is
 
 68 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 incalculable. It was very unwise to break with that 
 power. If I had been consulted on all that, I should 
 have continued negotiations with Rome, as with 
 Genoa and Venice. Whenever your general in Italy 
 is not the centre of everything, you will run great 
 risks. This language must not be ascribed to ambi- 
 tion ; I have all the honors I want, and my health is 
 so shattered that I fancy I shall have to ask to have 
 some one put in my place." Was this demand sin- 
 cere, or a feint? And would Bonaparte have been 
 pained if the Directory had taken him at his word? 
 However this may be, he had already written to 
 Carnot, August 9 : "If there is in France a single 
 man, honest and true, who can suspect my political 
 intentions, I at once resign the pleasure of serving 
 my country. Three or four months of retirement 
 will silence envy, restore my health, and enable me 
 to fill to better advantage whatever position the 
 government may entrust to me. When the time 
 shall have come, it will only be by leaving the Army 
 of Italy in season, that I shall be able to devote the 
 rest of my life to the defence of the Republic. Not 
 to let men grow old is the whole art of government. 
 When I entered a public career, I adopted for my 
 principle : Everything for my country ! I beg of 
 you to believe in the feelings of esteem and friend- 
 ship which I have avowed to you." 
 
 When Alvinzy was advancing with an army of 
 apparently overwhelming force, and nothing short 
 of a miracle could save the French troops, the young
 
 BETWEEN CASTIGLIONE AND ABCOLE. 69 
 
 commander -in- chief, who, for the first time per- 
 haps, doubted of his star, possibly regretted that the 
 Directory had not accepted his resignation. But the 
 lot was thrown ! he had to try the impossible. Bona- 
 parte was a man of dauntless audacity. He did not 
 lose heart ; his genius grew with the danger.
 
 VII. 
 
 ARCOLE. 
 
 AFTER a successful war it appears as if the 
 victor had known no other feeling than joy, 
 enthusiasm, and confidence. The mere name of the 
 first Italian campaign calls up visions of zeal and tri- 
 umph, and yet it was full of uncertainty and anxiety. 
 Often everything seemed lost; often Bonaparte es- 
 caped as if by a miracle. The hostile armies, which 
 appeared one after another ; the perpetual dwindling 
 of the heroic brigades ; the illness which continually 
 afflicted the young commander-in-chief and filled him 
 with despondency, all that is forgotten before the 
 glory of the results obtained, before the brilliancy of 
 the victory. But Bonaparte's soul was torn by cease- 
 less anxiety. What would be his place in history ? 
 Would he be called foolhardy or a hero ? This de- 
 pended on his success. And on what did his success 
 depend? If he were beaten, all the old-fashioned 
 tacticians would turn him to ridicule and prove by 
 mathematical reasoning that his plans were all wild 
 visions, and that defeat was inevitable because he 
 knew nothing of the art of war. In order to justify 
 70
 
 ARCOLE. 71 
 
 his self-confidence, he had to beat. His future de- 
 pended on the numberless accidents which decide the 
 issue of battles. At every moment of this memorable 
 campaign he was on the edge of a precipice. A touch, 
 and he was over. It is when we study the lives of the 
 greatest men, the Caesars, the Alexanders, the Napo- 
 leons, that we are most impressed with the insignifi- 
 cance of human affairs and the very great importance 
 of the most insignificant details of the most trivial 
 incidents in the fate of republics and empires. There 
 is an unknown force which mocks all human plans. 
 The faithful call it Providence ; sceptics call it 
 chance. But whatever its name, it exists everywhere. 
 Almost all great geniuses are fatalists, because, when 
 they examine their own triumphs, they see how small 
 was their own part, and that often they have failed 
 when, according to every reasonable view, they should 
 have succeeded, and have succeeded when success was 
 hopeless. But of these things public opinion takes 
 no account. It cares for but one thing, success ; 
 and its favorites are those who have risked everything 
 for everything, and won. 
 
 When Alvinzy's army was advancing towards the 
 Piave, Bonaparte had but thirty-six thousand men to 
 oppose to sixty thousand, and they were exhausted by 
 three campaigns and by the fevers which they caught in 
 the rice-fields of Lombardy. Any one else would have 
 despaired. November 5, he wrote to the Directory : 
 " Everything suffers, and we are in face of the enemy ! 
 The least delay may be fatal to us. We are on the
 
 72 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 eve of great events. These delays are a terrible mis- 
 fortune for us. All the troops of the Empire have 
 reached their posts with surprising celerity, and we 
 are left to ourselves. Fine promises and a few insig- 
 nificant corps are all that we have received." 
 
 After a few successes of the outposts, followed by 
 several serious reverses, Bonaparte had been forced 
 to a double retreat. His left wing, under the com- 
 mand of Vaubois, had occupied Trent ; it was driven 
 back on Corona and Rivoli. He himself, with seven- 
 teen thousand men, had taken position before Verona, 
 on the Brenta. He had been driven back into Verona, 
 whence he wrote this brief letter to Josephine, No- 
 vember 9 : " I reached Verona day before yesterday. 
 Though I am tired, I am very well, very busy, always 
 passionately devoted to you. My horse is waiting. 
 A thousand kisses." November 11, he attacked 
 Alvinzy again, but again he failed. The two divis- 
 ions of Augereau and Masse'na tried, November 12, 
 to capture the heights of Caldiero. The unfavorable 
 weather, the numerical superiority of the enemy, the 
 strength of their positions, all contributed to the ill- 
 success of these two divisions, in spite of all their 
 heroism. They were repulsed, and they withdrew 
 into Verona. Then, perhaps for the first time, the 
 valiant Army of Italy felt discouraged. Vaubois 
 had not more than six thousand men. There were 
 not more than thirteen, thousand in Masse'na's and 
 Augereau's divisions together. 
 
 The soldiers sadly said : " We can't alone do the
 
 * 
 
 ARCOLE. 73 
 
 work of all. Alvinzy's army, which faces us, is the 
 one before which the armies of the Rhine and of 
 the Sambre-et-Meuse retreated, and they are idle 
 now : why should we have to do their work ? They 
 don't send us any re-enforcements ; if we are beaten, 
 we shall flee to the Alps, disgraced. If, on the other 
 hand, we are victorious, of what use will the new 
 victory be? We shall be confronted with a new 
 army like Alvinzy's, just as Alvinzy has succeeded 
 Wurmser, and in this unceasing and unequal struggle 
 we must be ruined in the end." 
 
 The enemy were able to count the reduced forces 
 of the French at their leisure. They felt confident of 
 victory, and were already preparing the ladders with 
 which they meant to scale the walls of Verona. Bona- 
 parte's situation seemed desperate. Yet at this crit- 
 ical moment, on the day after his defeat at Caldiero, 
 November 13, he found time to write an affectionate 
 and reproachful letter to Josephine : "I don't love 
 you at all ; in fact, I hate you. You are horrid, 
 clumsy, stupid, a perfect Cinderella. You never 
 write to me ; you don't love your husband the least 
 bit in the world ; you know what pleasure your let- 
 ters give him, and yoii won't send him six lines ! 
 What do you do all day? What is there serious 
 enough to keep you from writing to your dear lover ? 
 What affection kills and throws to one side the love, 
 the tender and constant love, which you promised him? 
 Who is this wonderful creature, this new lover, who 
 takes all your time, rules all your days, and prevents
 
 74 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 your writing to your husband ? Josephine, take care ; 
 some fine night your door shall be burst open, and 
 there I am. Seriously, I am uneasy, my dear, at not 
 hearing from you. Write me four pages at once, and 
 all sorts of loving things which will fill my heart with 
 love and emotion. I hope soon to hold you in my 
 arms, and I shall cover you with a million kisses as 
 hot as the equator." 
 
 Madame de R^musat, always disposed to deny 
 Bonaparte any trace of feeling, and ready to main- 
 tain that he was all intelligence, was, in spite of 
 herself, struck by the passion which fills this corre- 
 spondence. She says in her Memoirs : " I have seen 
 some of Napoleon's letters to his wife written in the 
 first Italian campaign. . . . These letters are very 
 singular ; they are in an almost undecipherable hand- 
 writing, they are badly spelt, the style is strange and 
 confused. Yet they have such a passionate tone, they 
 are so full of real feeling, they contain expressions 
 so warm, and at the same time so poetical, that there 
 never lived a woman who would not have been glad 
 to receive just such letters. They form a striking 
 contrast with the delicate and measured smoothness 
 of the letters of M. de Beauharnais. Moreover, what 
 a thing for a woman to see herself at a time when 
 men were controlled by politics one of the inspir- 
 ing causes of an army's triumphal march! On the 
 eve of one of his great battles, Bonaparte wrote: 
 'Here I am, far away from you! I seem to have 
 fallen into the darkest shadows ; I need the fatal fire
 
 ARCOLE. 75 
 
 of the thunderbolts which we are about to hurl on 
 the enemy, to escape from the darkness into which 
 your absence has cast me.' " 
 
 Nevertheless the danger grew to be very serious. 
 Some years later, Josephine told General de Sdgur, 
 at Saint Cloud, that shortly before the battle of Arcole 
 she had received a letter from Bonaparte in which he 
 confessed that he had lost all hope, that everything 
 was lost, and that everywhere the enemy was show- 
 ing a force three times as large as his own ; that noth- 
 ing was left him but his courage ; that probably he 
 should lose the Adige ; that then he should fight for 
 the Mincio; and that this last position lost, he should, 
 if alive, join Josephine at Genoa, whither he advised 
 her to go. 
 
 Foreseeing the disorder, the bloodshed even, of 
 which her departure from Milan would be the signal, 
 Josephine decided to stay there, and she continued 
 her usual life, with no change in her habits, going to 
 the theatre with death in her heart, but presenting a 
 calm front, in spite of the threatening air of a part 
 of the populace of Milan. For three nights Italians 
 went frequently even into her bedroom, waking her 
 up, under the pretext of asking for news, but evi- 
 dently in expectation of her departure, in order that 
 their revolt might not be delayed a moment. 
 
 Before his men, Bonaparte assumed an air of per- 
 fect confidence. Even when his soul was torn by 
 the cruelest distress and anxiety, his face remained 
 impassible. At the very moment when he was prom-
 
 76 CLTIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 ising his soldiers an early victory, he was writing to 
 the Directory, November 14, an almost despairing 
 letter : " Citizens Directors, I owe you an account 
 of the operations which have taken place. If it is 
 not satisfactory, you will not ascribe the fault to the 
 army: its present inferiority and the exhaustion of 
 its bravest men makes me dread the worst. It may 
 be that we are about to lose all Italy ! None of 
 the expected aid has reached us. ... I am doing 
 my duty, and the same thing is true of the army. 
 My soul is tortured, but my conscience is easy. . . . 
 To-day, 24th Brumaire, the troops are resting. To- 
 morrow our movements depend on the enemy. I 
 have no hope of preventing the raising of the siege 
 of Mantua, which was ours, in a week. If this blow 
 falls, we shall soon be behind the Adda, and further 
 still, if no troops arrive. . . . The Army of Italy, 
 which is reduced to a mere handful, is exhausted. 
 The heroes of Lodi, Millesimo, Castiglione, and Bas- 
 sano have either died for their country or are in the 
 hospital. There is nothing left but their reputation 
 and their pride. Joubert, Lannes, Lannusse, Murat, 
 Dupuis, Rambau, Chabran, are wounded. . . . The 
 few who are left see death inevitable, amid such 
 unending combats and with such inferior forces ! 
 Possibly the hour of the brave Augereau, of the 
 fearless Masse'na, of Berthier, is close at hand! 
 Then what will become of all these brave men? 
 This idea disturbs me. I no longer dare to face 
 death, which would bring discouragement and mis-
 
 AECOLE. 77 
 
 ery to all over whom I keep watch." The letter 
 begins in what is almost despair ; it ends with hope- 
 fulness : "In a few days we shall make our final 
 effort ! If fortune favors us, Mantua will be taken, 
 and with it Italy ! Re-enforced by the army besieg- 
 ing that town, there is nothing I would not under- 
 take ! " 
 
 Everything seemed to point to Bonaparte's failure ; 
 but a secret voice whispered to him, " You will be 
 saved ! " There are men to whom difficulties are 
 but a stimulus, whom danger only makes bold. The 
 abyss causes them no giddiness, but only reassures 
 and encourages them. Before beginning the fight, 
 the young general thought that he saw Josephine's 
 image. Like the knights of old who evoked the 
 memory of their ladies before accomplishing their 
 exploits, he derived an irresistible strength from 
 the noble and chivalrous love that filled his heroic 
 and poetic soul. It was a curious spectacle this 
 man amid the most engrossing occupations, yet hun- 
 gering for love, and in the moment of the most im- 
 minent peril consoling himself by expecting a kiss, 
 a smile ! This impetuous genius, in the most terrible 
 crisis of his career, found time to be jealous, and to 
 suffer pangs of love ! After promising his wife vast 
 power and endless glory, what would he not suffer 
 if his career were to be checked now at the start ; 
 if all these hopes were to be but a disappointment; if 
 the pretended great man should appear as a mere 
 young braggart, unworthy of the confidence of a
 
 78 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Barras ! What would then say his three mistresses, 
 Josephine, France, and Italy ? To avoid such a 
 disaster, he felt capable of prodigies. His genius, 
 like his love, reached a pitch of wonderful inten- 
 sity. Being anxious not to see Josephine till after 
 a complete triumph, he remembered the line from 
 the Cid, 
 
 " Issue a victor from the combat of which Chimene is the 
 prize ! " 
 
 November 17, at nightfall, the camp at Verona 
 was called to arms. At the news of the last reverses 
 the sick and wounded insisted on leaving the hos- 
 pital and taking their places in the ranks with their 
 wounds yet unhealed ; and their presence filled the 
 army with lively emotion. The columns started, 
 passed through Verona, and issued from the gate 
 called the gate of Milan, and took a position on the 
 right bank of the Adige. It was a solemn and 
 anxious moment. They had no idea where they 
 were going. The time of starting ; the position they 
 had taken on the right, and not on the left bank ; 
 the silence which was observed, while usually the 
 order of the day announced an intended battle, the 
 whole state of affairs made them think that they 
 were about to begin retreat. They feared that they 
 were about to abandon Italy, that promised land, 
 which they had won with so much glory, and to lose 
 the fruit of such hot struggles and such dauntless 
 courage. Were the heroes of so many battles to be 
 fugitives? The mere thought filled them with dis-
 
 ARCOLE. 79 
 
 tress ; they yearned to continue the struggle as long 
 as they had a cartridge and a bayonet left. So when 
 instead of following the road to Peschiera, the army 
 suddenly turned to the left, along the Adige, reaching 
 Ronco before daybreak, where it found Andre*assy 
 there finishing the construction of a bridge, and dis- 
 covered itself by a simple turn to the left, on the other 
 bank of the Adige, there was general joy. " No ! " ex- 
 claimed the soldiers, " we are not retreating. With 
 twelve thousand men we can do nothing in the open 
 country against forty-five thousand. Our general is 
 leading us to the causeways in the vast marshes, where 
 numbers will not count, but where everything will 
 depend on the courage of the heads of the columns. 
 Forward ! " Then, as it is said in the Memorial of 
 Saint Helena, "the hope of victory fired every heart: 
 every man promised to outdo himself in support of 
 so fine and bold a plan." When Bonaparte saw the 
 glowing eyes of his soldiers before this battle of 
 giants, he felt that with such men he could hope 
 everything. There was about to begin a three days' 
 battle, one of the most stupendous struggles that an 
 army could ever undertake. 
 
 Three causeways run from Ronco, and all these 
 are surrounded by marshes. The first, ascending the 
 Adige, leads to Verona ; the second, to Villa Nuova, 
 passing before Arcole, which has a bridge a league 
 and a half from the Adige, over the little river, 
 the Alpon; the third descends the Adige, towards 
 Albaredo. Three columns advanced simultaneously
 
 80 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 over the three causeways. The centre column was 
 marching on Arcole, and the skirmishers reached the 
 bridge without being perceived by the enemy, who 
 had been too careless to extend his outposts to the 
 Adige, under the impression that the space between 
 that river and the Alpon was an impassable marsh. 
 The causeway from Ronco to Arcole strikes the 
 Alpon at a distance of two miles, and from there 
 runs up the right bank of the river for a mile and 
 turns at right angles to the right, entering Arcole. 
 Bonaparte reached this bridge which was to become 
 so famous. He tried to cross it, but a terrible fire 
 stopped the soldiers. Before this rain of bullets, this 
 avalanche of cannon-balls and shells, even the boldest 
 hesitated. Bonaparte galloped forward, and when 
 near the bridge, got off his horse. Augereau's men 
 had sought refuge in the marsh, and were crouching 
 along the edge of the causeway to escape the storm 
 of bullets that had repelled them. Their general 
 shouted to them, " Are you no longer the men who 
 conquered at Lodi ? " and seizing a flag, he called to 
 them and inspired them with his own courage. They 
 followed him in spite of the deadly fire, and got 
 within two hundred steps of the bridge, and were 
 about to cross it, when a major seized Bonaparte by 
 the waist, shouting, " General, you will be killed, 
 and without you we are lost; you shall go no fur- 
 ther!" Then they fell back. The soldiers, unwilling 
 to abandon their general, seized his arm, his hair, his 
 coat, and dragged him with them in their flight, amid
 
 ARCOLE. 81 
 
 the dead and dying, through the smoke. In the con- 
 fusion, without seeing what they did, they threw him 
 over to the right, into the marsh, and lost sight of 
 him. The Austrians were there. Fortunately they 
 failed to recognize him. A cry was heard, "For- 
 ward, men, to save the general ! " Marmont, Louis 
 Bonaparte, and a few other brave men rushed out, 
 and tore the commander-in-chief from the thick mud 
 into which he had fallen ; they put him on his horse 
 and charged the enemy, who at nightfall finally 
 abandoned Arcole* retiring on San Bonifacio. 
 
 "That day," says the Memorial of Saint Helena^ 
 "was one of soldierly devotion. General Lannes 
 had hastened from Milan ; he had been wounded at 
 Governolo, and was still weak. He placed himself 
 between Napoleon and the enemy, covering him with 
 his body, and was wounded in three places, insisting 
 on not leaving him. Muiron, the general's aide-de- 
 camp, was killed while covering his general with his 
 body, a touching and heroic death." 
 
 The battle continued the next day, November 16, 
 and the day after, the 17th. On the 16th, the Aus- 
 trians were defeated on the dykes of the Adige and 
 of Arcole. In the afternoon of the 17th, Bonaparte 
 counted the losses of the enemy, and decided that it 
 must have lost twenty thousand men, and that thus 
 it was only one-third stronger than his own forces. 
 Consequently, he ordered his troops to leave the 
 marshes, and attack the Austrians on the plain. 
 The army crossed the bridge that had been built at
 
 82 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the mouth of the Alpon. There was killed young El- 
 liot, one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp. At two in the 
 afternoon, the French were engaged, their left wing 
 at Arcole, their right in the direction of Porto 
 Lignano. The enemy was defeated at every point, 
 and, exhausted by a bloody contest of seventy-two 
 hours, they retreated in the direction of Vicenza. 
 
 November 18, Bonaparte, who had secretly marched 
 out from the Milan gate of Verona on the 14th, 
 re-entered the town in triumph, by the left bank of 
 the Adige, through the gate of Venice, the gate 
 through which the Veronese expected to see the 
 victorious Austrian army enter. From that moment 
 no one expected any serious defeat of the French. 
 " It would not be easy," Napoleon himself said, " to 
 conceive the surprise and enthusiasm of the inhabi- 
 tants. Even the most hostile could not remain cold ; 
 and they added their congratulations to those of our 
 friends." The stupefaction of some, the delight of 
 others, were blended in the common transport, as if 
 a miracle had happened.
 
 VIII. 
 
 AFTER ARCOLE. 
 
 ONAPARTE had done wonders, and was him- 
 1 ) self amazed at his good fortune. He felt that 
 henceforth he was in possession of that indefinable 
 power which is mightier than any other, and is called 
 prestige. Edgar Quinet says in his Revolution : " Na- 
 poleon has recorded that his high ambition came to 
 him at Arcole, but he does not say why. I think I 
 know the reason. Other victories, such as those of 
 Montenotte, Lodi, Lonato, Castiglione, had been 
 more complete. Why is it, then, that only at Arcole 
 his star first appeared to him ? It is because he had 
 never been in such desperate straits. The invincible 
 Army of Italy was about to Lose the fruits of all its 
 victories ! And what would become of his fame, 
 which eclipsed everything? It would be a mere 
 ephemeral glory, with no substance, no future ! To 
 retreat would have been to lose, with Italy, much 
 more than the result of so many prodigies ; it would 
 have meant his ruin. He would have flashed before 
 the world for a moment, to sink into oblivion. For- 
 tune would have smiled upon him merely in order to 
 
 83
 
 84 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 destroy him. Such might have been his thoughts, 
 November 14, 1796. That day everything seemed 
 lost, prestige, confidence, glory, the Consulate, the 
 Empire. The next day all had changed. It was at 
 this moment that Napoleon must have thought him- 
 self the creature of destiny ; he must have felt, after 
 recrossing the Adige at Ronco, that nothing was 
 impossible for a man who thus changed and ruled by 
 a glance the course of events ; that he was the man 
 who was needed, the master of fate. Henceforth, 
 where could his ambition halt? Where could he set 
 a limit to his plans ? The feeling of the fatality of 
 his power was born and grew up at the same moment 
 as that of his ruin, and universal dominion appeared 
 before him in the reeds of Arcole." 
 
 Bonaparte had triumphed, and yet he was sad. 
 His face was gloomy, and his talk betrayed his mel- 
 ancholy thoughts. In fact, men of great ambition 
 are usually haunted by a sort of melancholy when 
 once their ambition is gratified. The emptiness of 
 human things is such that the draught which fills 
 the cup of glory seems tasteless even to those who 
 quaff it. The feeling of the shortness of life, of the 
 uncertainty of hope, fills human conquerors with this 
 gloomy spirit. The shadow of death floats over all 
 their great feats. Besides, great efforts, gigantic 
 struggles, are followed by hours of moral and physi- 
 cal exhaustion. 
 
 However brilliant the victory, military glory has 
 its sad side, and the sight of the battle-field depresses
 
 AFTER ABCOLE. 85 
 
 the most eager. The cries of the wounded and 
 dying, which the conquerors as well as the con- 
 quered hear in the silence of the night, arouse a 
 melancholy echo. Napoleon, for all his stoicism 
 and impassibility on the battle-field, had afterwards 
 moments of tenderness. 
 
 He said at Saint Helena that once he was passing 
 over a battle-field in Italy, on .which the bodies of the 
 dead were still lying. " In the moonlight and the 
 unbroken quiet, suddenly there sprang out from un- 
 der the cloak of a corpse, a dog which ran towards us 
 and then returned at once, uttering doleful cries; he 
 licked his master's face a few times and then sprang 
 at us again. He was asking aid and seeking ven- 
 geance." The Emperor went on : " Was it my state 
 of mind, the place, the hour, the act itself? whatever 
 it was, I can truly say that never has anything on 
 the battle-field made such an impression on me. I 
 stopped involuntarily to gaze at this spectacle. ' This 
 man,' I thought, ' has friends, in the camp, perhaps, in 
 his company, and here he lies abandoned by all 
 except his dog. What a lesson nature gives us by 
 means of this animal ! . . . What is man ! How mys- 
 terious are his impressions ! ' I had without emotion 
 given the orders which were to decide the fate of the 
 army ; I had watched dry-eyed the execution of the 
 movements which were to cause death to a great 
 many of us; and here I was moved and deeply 
 touched by this dog's howling. . . . What is certain 
 is that at that moment I would have been very gentle
 
 86 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 to a suppliant foe, and I understood clearly how 
 Achilles restored Hector's body when Priam wept." 
 
 Never, perhaps, did Bonaparte's disposition to 
 revery and melancholy show itself more clearly than 
 after Arcole. He wrote to Carnot from Verona, 
 November 19, 1796 : " Never was a battle-field more 
 hotly contested than that of Arcole. I have scarcely 
 any generals left. Their devotion and courage are 
 unprecedented. General Lannes entered the action 
 while still suffering from his wound, and was 
 wounded besides twice after the first day. At three 
 in the afternoon he was lying down in great pain, 
 when he heard that I was taking a position at the 
 head of the column. He sprang from his bed, and 
 joined me on the bridge of Arcole, when a new 
 wound felled him to the ground unconscious. I 
 assure you the victory required all that." 
 
 The same day Bonaparte wrote to Clarke : " Your 
 nephew, Elliot, was killed on the battle-field of Arcole. 
 This young man had learned to know war. He has 
 often marched at the head of our columns. . . . He 
 died gloriously in front of the enemy. He did not 
 suffer a moment. What reasonable man would not 
 desire such a death? Who, in our uncertain life, 
 would not deem himself happy to leave in that way a 
 world which is often contemptible ? Who is there of 
 us who has not a hundred times regretted that he 
 could not thus escape the stings of calumny, of envy, 
 and of all the odious passions which seem alone to 
 rule men's conduct ? "
 
 AFTER ARCOLE. 87 
 
 Physical suffering added to the melancholy which 
 was stamped on Bonaparte's pale face. He was still 
 tormented by a skin disease which he had caught at 
 the siege of Toulon, when he seized a rammer from 
 the hands of an artillery-man who was afflicted with 
 the itch, and himself loaded the cannon ten or twelve 
 times. The poison disturbed his nervous organization 
 and infected his whole system. At about the time of 
 Arcole, he suffered from the first attacks of another 
 ailment, which sixteen years later was to diminish his 
 activity and give him real alarm. Yvan, who was his 
 surgeon until 1814, told General de Se*gur, that in 
 179G and 1797 he could only put an end to Napoleon's 
 attacks by plunging him, there being no bath-tub, 
 into the first barrel of water that he could lay his 
 hands on. 
 
 In spite of wonderful triumphs, the conqueror of 
 Arcole was suffering in mind and body. At certain 
 moments he doubted Josephine's love, and this doubt 
 was anguish. November 24, 1796, he wrote from Ve- 
 rona to his beloved wife : " Soon, my dear one, I hope 
 to be in your arms. I love you madly. I am writing 
 to Paris by this courier. All is well. Wurmser was 
 defeated yesterday under Mantua. Your husband 
 needs only Josephine's love to make him perfectly 
 happy." Then he left Verona, without sending her 
 word, to spend forty-eight hours with her at Milan. 
 To his surprise and disappointment, she was not there. 
 Then he wrote to her, seeing himself deprived of this 
 longed-for meeting which he had hoped would be
 
 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the most welcome prize of victory : " I reached Milan, 
 rushed to your rooms, having thrown up everything 
 to see you, to press you to my heart you were not 
 there ; you are travelling about from one town to 
 another, amusing yourself with balls : you go away 
 from me when I arrive ; you care no more for your 
 dear Napoleon. A caprice made you love me ; incon- 
 stancy makes you indifferent. I am accustomed to 
 danger, and know the cure for the fatigues and evils 
 of life. My unhappiness is inconceivable ; I had no 
 reason to expect it. I shall be here until the 9th 
 [Frimaire]. Don't put yourself out; pursue your 
 pleasure ; happiness is made for you. The whole 
 world is too happy if it can please you, and your 
 husband alone is very, very unhappy." 
 
 When Bonaparte was thus lamenting, Josephine 
 was at Genoa, where she had thought it her duty to 
 accept an invitation from the city. " She was re- 
 ceived," says Sir Walter Scott, " with studied magnifi- 
 cence by those in that ancient state who adhered to 
 the French interest, and where* to the scandal of the 
 rigid Catholics, the company continued assembled, 
 at a ball given by M. de Serva, till a late hour on 
 Friday morning, despite the presence of a senator 
 having in his pocket, but not venturing to enforce, a 
 decree of the senate for the better observation of the 
 fast day upon the occasion." 
 
 Another letter from Bonaparte to Josephine, No- 
 vember 28 : "I have received the despatches for- 
 warded by Berthier from Genoa. I see clearly that
 
 AFTER ARCOLE. 89 
 
 you didn't have time to write to me. In all your 
 pleasures and amusements, you would have done 
 wrong to sacrifice anything for me. Berthier has 
 been kind enough to show me the letter you wrote to 
 him. I have no intention of interfering with your 
 plans, or with the pleasure-parties that are offered to 
 you ; I am not worth the trouble, and the happiness 
 or misery of a man whom you do not love has no 
 right to interest you. For me, to love you alone, to 
 make you happy, to do nothing that can annoy you, 
 that is the lot and aim of my life. Be happy, make 
 me no reproaches, do not trouble yourself about the 
 happiness of a man who lives only in your life, and 
 knows no other pleasures and joys than yours. When 
 I ask of you a love like mine, I am wrong. Why ex- 
 pect lace to weigh as much as gold? When I sacri- 
 fice to you all my desires, all my thoughts, every 
 moment of my life, I yield to the power which your 
 charms, your character, and your whole person exer- 
 cise over my unhappy heart. It is my misfortune 
 that nature has denied me qualities that might fasci- 
 nate you ; but what I deserve to receive from Jose- 
 phine is respect and esteem, for I love her madly and 
 I love her alone." 
 
 This passionately eloquent letter concludes with 
 this outbreak of affection : " Good by, you adorable 
 woman ; good by, Josephine ! Fate may crowd every 
 sorrow and suffering upon my heart, if only it will 
 give happy and bright days to Josephine. Who de- 
 serves them better than she ? When there is no
 
 90 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 longer any doubt possible that she has ceased to love 
 me, I shall hide my crushing grief, and be satisfied to 
 be able to be of some use to her, of some service. I 
 open my letter to send you a kiss. . . . Oh, Jose- 
 phine, Josephine ! " 
 
 A few days later they met at Milan, and Bona- 
 parte's agitated heart tasted a few moments of com- 
 parative peace. Lavalette, who was his aide-de-camp 
 at that time, describes him at headquarters in Milan 
 after Arcole : " I presented myself before the com- 
 mander-in-chief, who was living in the Serbelloni 
 palace, on a day of reception. The drawing-room was 
 full of officers of all degrees, and of the high officials 
 of the country. His manner was pleasant, but his 
 glance was so haughty and piercing that I felt my- 
 self turn pale when he spoke to me. I stammered 
 out my name and a few words of gratitude which he 
 listened to in silence, with his eyes fixed on me and 
 a severe expression which thoroughly confused me. 
 At last he said : ' Come back at six o'clock and get 
 the scarf.' This scarf, which was the distinguishing 
 mark of the commander-in-chief's aides, was of white 
 and red silk, and was worn on the left arm." 
 
 At that time, Bonaparte had eight aides-de-camp. 
 Murat, who had just been promoted to the post of 
 general, was no longer one of them. The first was 
 Colonel Junot, who was as remarkable for his bravery 
 and energy as for his ready wit. " While construct- 
 ing one of the first batteries at Toulon against the 
 English," we read in the Memorial of Saint Helena,
 
 AFTER ARCOLE. 91 
 
 u Napoleon called for a sergeant or corporal who 
 knew how to write. A young soldier stepped out 
 of the ranks and resting the paper on the breastwork 
 wrote at his dictation. As soon as the letter was 
 finished, a shot covered it with earth. ' Good ! ' said 
 the writer; 'I sha'n't need any sand.' This jest and 
 the calmness with which it was uttered attracted 
 Napoleon's attention and made the sergeant's for- 
 tune. He was Junot, afterwards Duke of Abrantes, 
 General of Hussars, Commander in Portugal, Gov- 
 ernor-General of Illyria." 
 
 The second aide was Marmont, later the Duke of 
 Ragusa, a colonel of artillery, a descendant of an old 
 and respected family of Burgundy. Marmont, who 
 had received an excellent education, was distin- 
 guished for an intense love of glory, an unbounded 
 ambition, and enthusiastic devotion to his chief. 
 Later, the Duke of Ragusa thus described in his 
 Memoirs this part of his life : " We were tall very 
 young, from our commander down to the humblest 
 of his officers ; our ambition was noble and pure ; no 
 trace of envy, no base passion, ever entered our 
 hearts; a genuine friendship held us together, and 
 our mutual attachment amounted to devotion. Our 
 perfect confidence in the future, and our certainty 
 about our destinies, inspired that philosophical spirit 
 which contributes materially to happiness, and our 
 invariable harmony made us a most united family. 
 Finally, the variety of our occupations and our pleas- 
 ures, the constant demand upon our physical and
 
 92 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 mental qualities, lent to our life an interest and ful- 
 ness which were most extraordinary." 
 
 Less brilliant than Junot and Marmont, but of a 
 solid character, was the third aide-de-camp, Duroc, 
 later Grand Marshal to the Palace, and Napoleon's 
 most trusted friend. He ,v\s killed by a cannon-ball 
 at Wurtschen ; his death left on Bonaparte's spirit 
 so deep an impression that, when he was about to 
 embark upon the Bellerophon in 1815, the Emperor 
 asked permission to live as a private citizen in Eng- 
 land under the name of Colonel Duroc. 
 
 The fourth aide-de-camp was the young Lemerrois, 
 who was scarcely seventeen years old and already 
 covered with wounds. The fifth was Sulkowski, 
 a Pole, an adventurous, chivalrous, and romantic 
 character. He spoke every European language. 
 After having fought for the freedom of Poland, and 
 having been wounded at the siege of Warsaw, he 
 entered the French army, and was greeted by Napo- 
 leon's soldiers as a fellow-countryman. The sixth 
 aide-de-camp was the brother of the commander-in- 
 chief, Louis Bonaparte, scarcely seventeen years old, 
 who was entrusted with the most dangerous duties. 
 These he performed with a zeal and heartiness that 
 showed how well lie supported the burden of a great 
 name. The future King of Holland had a gentle 
 nature, his manners were simple, his character was 
 serious, he was prone to revery, and remarkably cool 
 in the hour of danger. At the battle of Arcole his 
 courage and devotion had been of service in saving
 
 AFTER ARCOLE. 93 
 
 his brother's life. "Louis loved glory," said Napo- 
 leon at Saint Helena; "perhaps he loved me more." 
 The seventh aide-de-camp was Croissier, a brave and 
 skilful cavalry officer who had just taken the place 
 of the young Elliot, who had met a glorious death 
 at Arcole. The eighth and last was Lavalette, later 
 Postmaster-General, who was condemned to death 
 and confined in the Conciergerie at the second 
 restoration, and only saved from execution by 
 the devotion of his wife, who, to secure his escape, 
 visited him in prison and sent him out dressed in 
 her clothes. 
 
 Bonaparte's staff was already a sort of military 
 court, of exceptional charm on account of its young 
 and martial air. "The commander-in-chief," Lava- 
 lette says elsewhere, " was then happy in his wife's 
 society. Madame Bonaparte was charming, and all 
 the cares of the chief command, all the duties of 
 government, could not prevent her husband from 
 giving himself up to domestic happiness. It was 
 during this short sojourn at Milan that the young 
 painter Gros made the first portrait that exists of the 
 general. He represented him on the bridge of Lodi 
 at the moment when, flag in hand, he flung himself 
 before his men to urge them on. The artist could 
 never get the general to sit. Madame Bonaparte 
 took her husband on her lap, after breakfast, and 
 held him for a few minutes. I was present at these 
 sittings ; the age of the happy couple, the artist's 
 modesty and his enthusiasm for the hero, excused
 
 94 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 this familiarity." Gros, thus painting Bonaparte's 
 portrait at Milan, after the battle of Arcole, might 
 make a good subject of a picture of one of our mod- 
 ern artists.
 
 IX. 
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Count of Las Cases recounts in the Memorial 
 _L_ this conversation which he had with Napoleon 
 at Saint Helena : " We said to the Emperor, speaking 
 of the Italian campaign and the swift and daily vic- 
 toiies which had made it so famous, that he must 
 have got great pleasure out of it. ' None at all,' he 
 replied. * But at least Your Majesty gave some to 
 those who were at a distance.' ' Possibly ; at a dis- 
 tance one reads about the triumphs and ignores the 
 state of things. If I had had an}' pleasure, I should 
 have rested ; but I always had danger in front of me, 
 and the day's victory was at. once forgotten in the 
 necessity of winning a new one the next day.' " 
 
 Early in 1797 the war had to be resumed, and 
 Bonaparte, who had caught a fever by bivouacking 
 in a marsh near Mantua, was in a state of illness 
 and exhaustion which filled the army with despair. 
 Stendhal describes his appearance at the time, with 
 his hollow, livid cheeks, which inspired the Emigre's 
 to say, " He is ot a most beautiful yellow ! " and they 
 drank to his sposdy death. " Only his eyes and their 
 
 BB
 
 96 CIT1ZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 piercing glance announced the great man. This 
 glance had won for him the confidence of the army, 
 which forgave him for his feeble appearance, loving 
 him only the better for it. They often compared 
 their little corporal with the superb Murat, and their 
 preference was for the puny general who had already 
 won so great glory." 
 
 Austria was about to make a final effort. The 
 great cities of that empire were sending battalions 
 of volunteers. Those of Vienna had received from 
 the Empress banners embroidered by her own hands. 
 
 Bonaparte was at Bologna, January 10, 1797, when 
 he heard that the Austrians, to the number of sixty 
 thousand men, were advancing by Montebaldo and 
 the Paduan plains. In the night between the 13th 
 and 14th of January he w r as on the eminence of 
 Rivoli. The weather had cleared after very heavy 
 rain. In the moonlight the general examined the 
 lines of the enemy's camp-fires, which filled the 
 whole region between the Adige and Lake Garda: 
 the air was all ablaze with them. The bivouac 
 fires indicated forty or fifty thousand Austrians. 
 The next morning at six, there were to be at Rivoli 
 only twenty-two thousand French troops. Never did 
 Bonaparte show more amazing rapidity of conception, 
 decision, and execution. January 14, he won the 
 battle of Rivoli; he marched all that night with 
 Masse'na's division, which had won the victory ; the 
 evening of the 15th, he was before Mantua ; the 16th, 
 he won the battle of Favorita. In three days the
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 97 
 
 Austrian army, reduced to half its original size, com- 
 pletely disorganized, weakened by a multitude of 
 killed and wounded, had lost twenty-two thousand 
 men taken prisoners, its artillery, and baggage. Mas- 
 se*na's division had marched and fought incessantly 
 for four days, marching by night and fighting by 
 day. Bonaparte could boast that his soldiers had 
 surpassed the famous speed of Caesar's legions. " The 
 Roman legions," he wrote at the time, "used to make 
 twenty-four miles a day ; our men make thirty and 
 fight in the intervals." He also wrote to Carnot: 
 " The esteem of a few such men as you, that of my 
 comrades and the soldiers, sometimes, too, the opin- 
 ion of posterity, and above all, the state of my own 
 conscience, and the prosperity of my country, alone 
 interest me." February 3, Wurmser surrendered at 
 Mantua. Bonaparte, who had accorded honorable 
 conditions to the venerable Austrian general, was 
 unwilling to be present at the scene of his humilia- 
 tion, and was already in the Romagna when he 
 and his staff marched out before the French troops. 
 The studied indifference with which Bonaparte <1 - 
 nied himself the agreeable spectacle of a marshal of 
 a great reputation, the commander-in-chief of the 
 Austrian forces, at the head of his staff, giving up 
 his sword, was a matter of surprise to all Europe. 
 A few days later he wrote to the Directory : " I was 
 anxious to show French generosity to Wurmser, a 
 general more than seventy years old, to whom for- 
 tune has been unkind, but who has never ceased to
 
 98 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 show a constancy and a courage that history will not 
 forget." 
 
 The war with Austria came to a pause ; that with 
 the Holy See continued. February 10, Bonaparte 
 wrote to Josephine as follows : " We have been at 
 Ancona for two days. We captured the citadel by 
 a sudden attack, after a little firing. We took twelve 
 hundred prisoners. I have sent fifty officers to their 
 homes. I am still at Ancona. I don't send for 
 you, because our work is not done yet ; but I hope 
 it will be finished in a few days. Besides, the 
 country is very hostile, and everybody is afraid. 
 I leave for the mountains to-morrow. You never 
 write ; and yet you ought to send me a line every 
 day. I beg of you to take a walk every day ; it will 
 do you good. I have never been so tired of anything 
 as I am with this horrid war. Good by, my dear. 
 Think of me." February 13, he wrote again from 
 Ancona : " I hear nothing from you, and I am sure 
 that you don't love me. I have sent you newspapers 
 and different letters. I am leaving at once, to cross 
 the mountains. The moment anything is settled, I 
 shall send for you : that is my most earnest desire. 
 Thousands and thousands of kisses." February 16, 
 three days before the signing of the Treaty of Tolen- 
 tino, he wrote from Bologna : " You are gloomy ; you 
 are ill ; you don't write to me ; you want to go to 
 Paris. Don't you love your husband any more? 
 This thought makes me very unhappy. My dear 
 one, I find life unendurable, since I hear of your low
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 99 
 
 spirits. I hasten to send Mascati, that he may pre- 
 scribe for you. My health is not very good : my 
 cold holds on. I beg of you to take care of yourself, 
 to love me as much as I love you, and to write to me 
 every day. You can't imagine how uneasy I am. I 
 have told Mascati to escort you to Ancona, if you 
 desire to go there. I will send you word where I 
 am. Perhaps I shall make peace with the Pope, and 
 be with you soon: that is my most ardent wish. I 
 send you a hundred kisses. Remember that nothing 
 equals my love, except my uneasiness. Write to me 
 every day. Good by, my dear." 
 
 February 19, Bonaparte signed the Treaty of To- 
 lentino with the Pope. He was but three days' 
 march from the capital; and nothing would have 
 been easier for him than to enter the Eternal City in 
 triumph. He was wise enough to decide otherwise. 
 
 At this period he thought it best to be gentle 
 towards religion. Prince Metternich has observed 
 in his Memoirs" : " Napoleon was not irreligious in 
 the ordinary sense of the word. He did not acknowl- 
 edge that there had ever existed a sincere atheist; 
 he condemned deism as the result of rash specula- 
 tion. As a Christian arid a Catholic, he assigned 
 only to an established religion the right of governing 
 human society. He regarded Christianity as the 
 corner-stone of all true civilization, and Catholicism 
 as the religion most favorable to the preservation of 
 the order and peace of the moral world ; Protestant- 
 ism he looked upon as a source of trouble and discord.
 
 100 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 He compelled the Pope to cede Avignon and the 
 Venaissin, Bologna, Ferrara, and the Romagna, and 
 to pay a subsidy of thirty millions. But at the same 
 time, he wrote to him this respectful letter, quite 
 unlike the usual language of France during the 
 Revolution: "I must thank Your Holiness for the 
 courteous expressions contained in the letter which 
 you have been kind enough to write to me. Peace 
 has just been signed between the French Republic and 
 Your Holiness. I am glad to have been able to contri- 
 bute to his personal repose. All Europe is aware of 
 the pacific and conciliatory disposition of Your Holi- 
 ness ! The French Republic will be, I hope, one of the 
 truest friends of Rome. I send my aide-de-camp to 
 convey to Your Holiness the unfailing esteem and 
 veneration which I feel for his person." 
 
 The same day the peace of Tolentino was con- 
 cluded, February 19, 1797, Bonaparte wrote the fol- 
 lowing letter to Josephine, who was then at Bologna : 
 " Peace has just been signed with Rome. Bologna, 
 Ferrara, the Romagna, are ceded to the Republic. 
 The Pope gives us shortly thirty millions and many 
 works of art. I leave to-morrow morning for Ancona, 
 and thence for Rimini, Ravenna, and Bologna. If 
 your health permits, come to Rimini or Ravenna, 
 but I beg of you, take care of yourself. 
 
 " Not a word from you ; Heavens ! what have I 
 done ? To think only of you, to love only Josephine, 
 to know no other happiness than hers, does all that 
 make me worthy of such a cruel fate ? My dear, I
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 101 
 
 beg of you, think of me often, and write every day. 
 You must be ill, or you don't love me ! Do you 
 think my heart is made of marble ? Do my suffer- 
 ings move you so little ? How little you know me ! 
 I should not have believed it. You to whom nature 
 has given intelligence, gentleness, and beauty, you 
 who rule alone over my heart, you who, doubtless, 
 know only too well the absolute power you exercise 
 over my heart, write to me, think of me, and love 
 me. Ever yours." 
 
 This letter, dated February 19, at Tolentino, is 
 printed in the collection published by Queen Hor- 
 tense as the last written by Napoleon to Josephine 
 during the first Italian campaign. It is much to be 
 regretted that Josephine's letters to her husband 
 have not also been preserved ; but it is fair to sup- 
 pose from Napoleon's repeated reproaches, that his 
 wife wrote very cool answers to the sentimental 
 effusions of her passionate husband. She was proud 
 of him ; she admired his glory, and was dazzled and 
 fascinated by his success. Still we may doubt 
 whether she loved him ; and love, even between 
 married people, cannot be commanded. If later 
 Napoleon became less ardent, it may be because he 
 was disappointed' in the return which his love met. 
 We should be inclined to think that Madame de 
 Re*musat was not wholly mistaken when she thus 
 expressed herself on this delicate subject: "Bona- 
 parte's letters betray the emotions of a jealousy 
 which varies between despondency and threats of
 
 102 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 violence. Then we find gloomy thoughts, a sort of 
 disgust with the passing illusions of life. Possibly 
 the cold reception with which his ardent feelings 
 were met had its influence upon and at last be- 
 numbed him. Perhaps he would have been a better 
 man if he had been more, and especially better, 
 loved." Moreover, it may well be that Josephine's 
 coldness was the result of calculation. There are 
 men who are more fascinated by indifference than by 
 surrender, and who prefer a changing sky to the 
 monotonous blue of doting love. We must not for- 
 get that Josephine had to deal with a conqueror, and 
 that love is like war. She never yielded ; she let 
 herself be won; had she been more tender, more 
 loving, possibly Bonaparte might have loved her less. 
 The war was not yet over. Austria, with its in- 
 exhaustible resources, was perpetually renewing the 
 struggle. Its armies were ever springing from the 
 ground. After Beaulieu, Wurmser ; after Wurmser, 
 Alvinzy ; after Alvinzy, the Archduke Charles. This 
 German prince, who had won his spurs in Germany, 
 came to Italy. Bonaparte, with thirty thousand men, 
 hastened to encounter him, in a bitter cold, over 
 mountains covered with snow. March 13, 1797, he 
 crossed the Piave ; the 16th, he de'feated the Arch- 
 duke in the battle of Tagliamento ; soon he arrived 
 at Gradisca ; a few days later he took Laybach and 
 Trieste; the 26th, he entered Germany; the 29th, 
 he captured Klagenfurt. Whether from fatigue and 
 physical exhaustion or from prudence and craft, he
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 103 
 
 felt that the hour of peace had struck. He had won 
 enough fame as a soldier ; now he was to appear as a 
 paacemaker. 
 
 This unrivalled manager understood how to ar- 
 range peace with as much art as he had shown in 
 carrying on war. After crossed swords, the olive- 
 branch; after fury, moderation; after glory, peace 
 and rest. France was all aflame for this young man 
 who flattered in turn its glory and its interest, and 
 kept such close touch with public opinion. March 31, 
 he wrote to the Archduke Charles a letter, replete 
 with philosophy and the love of humanity after the 
 fashion of the time, and its publication, a few days 
 later in the Moniteur had an enormous effect. In it 
 Bonaparte said : " General, brave soldiers make war, 
 but love peace. . . . Have we killed enough men 
 and done enough harm to humanity ? This sixth cam- 
 paign begins under unhappy auspices ; whatever may 
 ba its issue, we shall kill between us, a few thousand 
 men more, and we must at last come to an under- 
 standing, since everything, even human passions, has 
 an end. . . . You, General, who by birth are so near 
 the throne, and so superior to the petty passions 
 which often animate ministers and governments, are 
 you determined to deserve the title of the Saviour of 
 Germany ? . . . As for me, if the overture which I 
 have the honor of making to you, can save one man's 
 life, I shall be prouder of the civic crown which I 
 shall deem myself to have earned, than of all the sad 
 glory which may come from military triumphs."
 
 104 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 April 15, Bonaparte arrived at Leoben. His ad- 
 vance seized the Semmering ; the French were only 
 twenty-five leagues from Vienna. The Archduke 
 Charles requested a suspension of hostilities. Bona- 
 parte acceded, and, April 18, he signed the prelimi- 
 naries of a peace on the following conditions: Bel- 
 gium and the left bank of the Rhine to be ceded to 
 France ; cession of Lombardy for the purpose of mak- 
 ing it an independent state, in consideration of an 
 indemnity to Austria from the Venetian territory. 
 Towards the end of April he returned to Italy, and 
 when he reached Treviso, May 3, an order of the day 
 was published, in which he declared war against the 
 Venetian Republic, which had declared against him 
 before the preliminaries of Leoben, and had seen 
 French soldiers massacred. General Baragney d'Hil- 
 liers seized the lagoons, forts, and batteries of Venice, 
 and, May 16, hoisted the tricolor flag in the Piazza of 
 Saint Mark. Bonaparte had returned to Milan.
 
 THE SERBELLONI PALACE. 
 
 r~F!HE spring of 1797 was perhaps the happiest time 
 JL in the lives of Napoleon and Josephine. The 
 poet Arnault, when he came from Paris in May, 
 found the two at Milan, settled in the Serbelloni 
 Palace, which at that time attracted more attention 
 from all Europe than did the residences of emperors 
 and kings. The Duke of Serbelloni, a convert to the 
 French notions of liberty, was proud to have under 
 his roof the hero of Arcole, who was then looked on 
 as the restorer of Italian liberty. The Duke's palace, 
 with its blocks of finished granite all sparkling with 
 small crystals, its vast and sumptuous drawing-rooms, 
 its lofty colonnades, its wide, long gallery, was one 
 of the most luxurious residences of Milan. Arnault 
 uets before us Bonaparte .with his military court in a 
 drawing-room where were Josephine and a few pretty 
 women : Madame Visconti, Madame Leopold Berthier, 
 Madame Yvan. Near the ladies was Eugene de Beau- 
 harnais, on a sofa, jesting as merrily as a page. The 
 general made his appearance, and every one stood up. 
 Berthier, Kilmaine, Clarke, and Augereau waited for
 
 106 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 a glance, a word, the slightest sign. The group gath- 
 ered about Bonaparte, and he began to tell stories, 
 to explain his victories, talking at one moment on 
 military matters, and the next, philosophy and poetry. 
 " To the interest of these remarks," Arnault goes on 
 in his Souvenirs, " uttered now with a serious vcice, 
 and now with animation, must be added the authority 
 that is given by a singularly mobile face, the severe 
 expression of which is often tempered by the kindli- 
 est smile, by a look which reflects the deepest thoughts 
 of a most powerful intelligence and the warmest feel- 
 ings of a most passionate heart, to all this must be 
 added the charm of a melodious and manly voice, 
 and then ,it will be possible to conceive how easily 
 Bonaparte won by his conversation those whom he 
 desired to fascinate." He had just been talking for 
 two hours steadily, standing all the time, like the 
 listeners, and no one had felt a moment's fatigue. 
 As he left, Arnault said to Regnauld de Saint Jean 
 d' Angely : " That man is an exceptional being ; every- 
 thing succumbs to his superior genius, to the force ot 
 his character ; everything about him bears the stamp 
 of authority. You notice how his authority is recog- 
 nized by the people, who submit to him without know- 
 ing it, or perhaps in spite of themselves. What an 
 expression of respect and admiration the men wear 
 who approach him ! He is born to command, as so 
 many others to obey. If he is not lucky enough to 
 be carried off by a bullet before four years from now, 
 he will be in exile or on the throne."
 
 THE SEEBELLONI PALACE. 107 
 
 Josephine was already like a queen. She will 
 confess later that nothing ever equalled the impres- 
 sion which she received at this time, when, according 
 to Madame de Rdmusat, " love seemed to come every 
 day to place at her feet a new conquest over a people 
 entranced with its conqueror." Bonaparte was then 
 the favorite of the populace of Milan. They used to 
 wait for hours to see him come out of the Serbelloni 
 Palace. The Italians, who, like the rest of the world, 
 are devoted to success, applauded the young general 
 all the more enthusiastically because they regarded 
 him as one of themselves. "Everything," he said 
 one day, " even my foreign origin, which was brought 
 up against me in France, has been of service to me. 
 It caused me to be regarded as a fellow-countryman 
 by the Italians, and greatly aided my success in Italy. 
 When I had obtained my success, people began to 
 look up the history of a family which had long fallen 
 into obscurity. It was found, as all Italians knew, 
 to have long played an important part with them. 
 In their estimation it had become an Italian family, 
 so much so that when the question came up of my 
 sister Pauline's marriage with Prince Borghese, there 
 was only one opinion in Rome and in Tuscany, in 
 that family and all its branches. ' It's all right,' 
 they said ; ' it's between ourselves ; it's one of our 
 families.' Later, when the question arose of the 
 Pope's crowning me in Paris, this important matter 
 encountered serious difficulties: the Austrian party 
 in the Conclave opposed it violently; the Italian
 
 108 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 party prevailed by adding to the political considera- 
 tion the force of national pride : ' After all,' they said, 
 ' it's an Italian family that we are establishing over 
 the barbarians ; we shall be avenged for the Goths.' " 
 
 At Milan, as in Paris, Josephine was of great ser- 
 vice to her husband's plans. She helped him play his 
 double part now as a revolutionary leader, now as a 
 conservative. When he wished to oppose royalism, 
 he made use of men with the ideas of Augereau ; when 
 he wanted to cajole people of the old regime, Jose- 
 phine, by her antecedents, her relations, her character, 
 was the bond of union between him and the European 
 aristocracy. He acknowledged this himself. 
 
 " My marriage with Madame de Beauharnais," 
 said Napoleon, "brought me into relations with a 
 party which I required for my plan of fusion, which 
 was one of the most important principles of my 
 administration, and one of the most characteristic. 
 Had it not been for my wife, I should not have had 
 any easy means of approaching it." 
 
 The drawing-room of the former Viscountess of 
 Beauharnais, in the Serbelloni Palace, recalled the 
 elegance and the traditions of the most brilliant 
 drawing-^ooms of the Faubourg Saint Germain. Jo- 
 sephine used to receive there the Milanese nobility 
 with exquisite grace, and exercised a formal etiquette 
 in marked contrast with the very demagogic tone of 
 the addresses issued by the Army of Italy before the 
 18th Fructidor. Thanks to his Italian shrewdness, 
 Bonaparte knew how to please both the sansculottes
 
 THE SERBELLONI PALACE. 109 
 
 and those who wore knee-breeches. He intrigued as 
 skilfully with the most ardent democrats as with the 
 ambassadors of the old courts of Austria and Naples. 
 
 At one time he would be taken for a mounted 
 tribune ; at another, for a potentate. According to 
 some, he was a Brutus ; according to others, he was 
 soon to be a Csesar. There is nothing more interest- 
 ing than to study him in this double aspect. While 
 Bonaparte's lieutenants used the most revolutionary 
 language, he himself, in confidential talk with his 
 intimates, expressed contempt for the methods of the 
 demagogue. This commander-in-chief, who had been 
 appointed by the Directory, already felt for the Di- 
 rectors, and especially for Barras, his especial patron, 
 the most profound scorn ; but if such were his 
 thoughts, he took care to hide them. The time had 
 not come for throwing off his mask. Josephine, who 
 was very intimate with Barras, helped, possibly with- 
 out knowing it, to allay the discord which otherwise 
 could not have failed to arise between the Director 
 and the young, indocile general. Barras, by express- 
 ing any discontent with Bonaparte, who often diso- 
 beyed the instructions of the Directory, would have 
 feared to wound his friend Josephine, who was so 
 charming at the festivities of the Luxembourg. Thus 
 it was that she continued at Milan the work she Lad 
 begun in Paris; and in fact, she was Bonaparte's 
 mainstay with the Directory. 
 
 Josephine was at that time thirty-four years old. 
 Her somewhat brown and faded complexion was dis-
 
 110 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 guised by rouge and powder, which she employed 
 with great skill ; the smallness of her mouth con- 
 cealed the badness of her teeth: she remedied her 
 natural defects by art. The elegance of her figure, 
 her graceful movements, her refined expression, her 
 soft eyes and gentle voice, her dignified bearing, 
 and all the harmony of her person, gave her an ex- 
 ceptional charm. Moreover, an air of coquetry, which 
 was all the more attractive because it seemed natural 
 and involuntary ; an indolence, which was but another 
 fascination; her unpretending but always pleasing- 
 conversation ; her unfailing kindness ; manners that 
 recalled the best traditions of the court of Versailles ; 
 great taste in dress ; toilettes and jewels that queens 
 might have envied, all these things enable us to 
 understand the power which so attractive a woman 
 was able to exercise over Bonaparte's intelligence 
 and heart. He was absolutely faithful to her; and 
 this at a time when there was not a beauty in Milan 
 who was not setting her cap for him. His loyalty to 
 her was partly a matter of love, partly of calculation. 
 As he himself said, " his position was most delicate ; 
 he commanded old generals ; jealous eyes spied his 
 every movement; he was extremely circumspect. 
 His fate depended on his conduct; he might have 
 forgotten himself for an hour, and how many of his 
 victories hung on no more than that brief space of 
 time ! " 
 
 Many years later, at the time of his coronation at 
 Milan, the celebrated singer, Grassini, attracted his
 
 THE SERRELLONI PALACE. Ill 
 
 attention; circumstances were less austere; he sent 
 for her, and after the first moment of a speedy ac- 
 quaintance, she reminded him that she had made 
 her first appearance at exactly the time of his first 
 exploits as commander of the Army of Italy. "I was 
 then in the full flower of my beauty and talent. No 
 one talked of anything except of me in the Virgins of 
 the Sun. I charmed every one. The young general 
 alone was indifferent, and he alone interested me. 
 How strange ! When I really was somebody, and all 
 Italy at my feet, I scorned it all for one of your 
 glances. I could not win it, and now you let them 
 fall on me when I am no longer worthy of you or 
 them." 
 
 In May, 1797, Bonaparte was relatively happy, as 
 happy as could be a man of his ardent and restless 
 nature, for whom peace and happiness seemed not to 
 exist. A few days had been enough to restore his 
 strength after all his emotions, fatigues, and perils. 
 The suspicions he had felt about his wife were 
 speedily dissipated; and Josephine at last became 
 accustomed to Italy, where she held so lofty a posi- 
 tion, and her pride was thoroughly gratified. 
 
 As for the French army, it was wild with joy over 
 its triumphs. Milan seemed its Paradise. Stendhal 
 has written a most picturesque description of this 
 enchanting period, when the officers and soldiers 
 were all young and loving, the ladies of Milan were 
 each more beautiful and more amiable than another. 
 There was the promenade of the Corso on the bastion
 
 112 CITIZENESS BONAPAliTK. 
 
 of the eastern gate, that old Spanish rampart planted 
 with chestnut-trees and forty feet above the green 
 plain; and there fashionable society used to meet 
 every day the women in low carriages called 
 bastardelles. 
 
 Before the French army reached Milan, there had 
 never been more than two lines of carriages in the 
 Corso ; afterwards there were always four, sometimes 
 six, filling the whole length of the promenade. At 
 the centre the carriages as they arrived took their 
 single turn, at a gentle trot. Happy were the staff or 
 cavalry officers who could dash into this labyrinth : 
 they were objects of envy to the infantry officers. 
 But when, as the evening comes on, and the hour of 
 the Ave Maria, the carriages start again, and the 
 ladies, without alighting, eat ices in front of a 
 fashionable cafe, then the infantry officers have 
 their innings at the entrance of the cafci of the 
 Corsia de 1 Servi. Some have come ten leagues to 
 be at the rendezvous. Fridays, when the theatres 
 used to be closed, there was a ball at the casino of 
 the Albergo della Citta: every other evening there 
 were magnificent performances at the Scala. The 
 ladies of Milan received in their boxes a number of 
 French officers, thereby driving their cavalieri ser- 
 venti to despair as they saw the attentions showered 
 on the young conquerors. The pit was also filled 
 with officers who were not happy enough to be 
 invited into the boxes ; but they were not discouraged 
 by that, and they cast tender and respectful glances
 
 THE SEBBELLONI PALACE. 113 
 
 on the objects of their adoration. Men who knew 
 no shadow of fear in the face of shells and bullets 
 blushed and trembled before a woman. They scarcely 
 dared to raise their eyes to the boxes where shone, 
 like stars, the ladies whom they worshipped. If their 
 suit was hopeless, these ladies would look at them 
 through the large end of their opera-glasses, which 
 put them off at a distance ; if, however, they looked 
 at them through the other end, which brought them 
 nearer, then they were filled with happiness I 
 
 " primavera, gioventu dell' anno ! 
 gioventu, primavera delta vita ! " 
 
 " O spring, youth of the year 1 
 O youth, springtime of lif d I "
 
 XI. 
 
 THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. 
 
 WHEN the hot weather set in, Bonaparte and 
 his wife took up their quarters at the castle 
 of Montebello, a few leagues from Milan, at the top 
 of a hill from which there was a wide view over the 
 rich plains of Lombardy. There they remained three 
 months, holding a sort of diplomatic and military 
 court, which the Italians, discerning the future sover- 
 eign under the Republican general, called the court 
 of Montebello. In fact, Bonaparte had already 
 assumed the airs of a monarch. Every one won- 
 dered that he had in so brief a time acquired such 
 glory and could exercise so great influence in Europe. 
 Scarcely thirteen months before, as an unknown gen- 
 eral he had taken command at Nice of an army desti- 
 tute of everything, and now holding the position of 
 conqueror in the most beautiful region of the world, 
 surrounded by the ministers of Austria and Naples, 
 the envoys of the Pope, of the King of Sardinia, of 
 the Republics of Genoa and Venice, he had become 
 the arbiter of the destinies of Italy. Let us hear what 
 an eyewitness, the Count Miot de M elite, says : " It 
 
 114
 
 THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. 115 
 
 was in the magnificent castle of 'Montebello that I 
 found Bonaparte, rather in the midst of a brilliant 
 court than at the headquarters of an army. Already 
 there prevailed a rigid etiquette; his aides-de-camp 
 and officers were no longer received at his table, and 
 he was very particular about what guests he received 
 there : this was a much-sought-for honor, and one 
 only obtained with great difficulty. He dined, so to 
 speak, in public ; during his meals there were ad 
 mitted into the dining-room the inhabitants of tho 
 country, who gazed at him with the greatest interest 
 However, he betrayed rro embarrassment or confusior 
 at this extreme honor, and received them as if he hau 
 been accustomed to it all his life. His drawing-rooms 
 and a large tent that he had had built in front of tlu 
 castle, on the side of the gardens, were constantly 
 filled with a crowd of generals, officials, and purvey, 
 ors, as well as with the highest nobles and the most 
 distinguished men of Italy, who came to solicit the 
 favor of a glance or a moment's interview." 
 
 Austria had sent as its plenipotentiaries, to the 
 court of Montebello two great nobles : an Austrian, 
 the Count of Mersfald ; and a Neapolitan, the Marquis 
 of Giillo, ambassador fiorh Naples at Vienna, the same 
 who later was ambassador at Paris, and Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs in the reign of Joseph Bonaparte, 
 King of Naples, as well as of Murat, who succeeded 
 him on the throne. 
 
 At this time Bonaparte had with him his brothers, 
 Joseph and Louis, his sister Pauline, and his mother,
 
 116 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Madame Letitia, who had just come from Marseilles 
 and Genoa with two of her daughters: Elisa, later 
 Duchess of Tuscany, and Caroline, afterwards Queen 
 of Naples. As they passed through Genoa, they found 
 that city in tremendous excitement. 
 
 It was the very moment when Lavalette, one of 
 Bonaparte's aides-de-camp, had handed to the Doge, 
 before the full Senate, this letter, dated May 27, 
 1797 : " If, within twenty-four hours after the recep- 
 tion of this letter, which I send to you by one of my 
 aides-de-camp, you shall not have placed all the 
 Frenchmen who are in your prison at the disposition 
 of the French Ministry; if you shall not have had 
 arrested the men who are exciting the people of 
 Genoa against the French ; if, finally, you do not 
 disarm this populace, which will be the first to rise 
 against you when it shall have perceived the terrible 
 consequences of the errors into which you will have 
 led it, the Minister of the French Republic will 
 leave Genoa, and the aristocracy will have existed. 
 The heads of the Senators will guarantee to me the 
 security of all the Frenchmen who are in Genoa, and 
 the united states of the Republic will guarantee their 
 property. I beg of you, in conclusion, to have perfect 
 confidence in the feelings of esteem and distinguished 
 consideration which I nourish for Your Highness's 
 person." 
 
 Never before that day had a stranger entered the 
 Senate Chamber. The excitement of the city ren- 
 dered wild excesses probable. Since Bonaparte had
 
 THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. 117 
 
 not received the letter announcing the arrival in 
 Italy of his mother and sisters, no precautions had 
 been taken, no orders had been given. Madame Le- 
 titia might easily be the victim of an uprising of the 
 populace. Lavalette's first thought was to stay with 
 them, and to defend as well as he could, in case of 
 attack; but Madame Bonaparte was a woman of 
 great sense and courage. " I have nothing to fear 
 here, so long as my son holds the leading citizens of 
 the Republic as hostages. Go back, and tell him 
 of my arrival : to-morrow morning I shall continue 
 my journey." Lavalette followed her advice, simply 
 taking the precaution of letting a few cavalry pickets 
 ride ahead of the three ladies. They reached Milan 
 without accident, and the next day took up their 
 quarters at the castle of Montebello. 
 
 Madame Letitia, who was a very proud woman, 
 was highly pleased to see her son enjoying so much 
 power and glory. As Sir Walter Scott says in his 
 Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, " every town, every vil- 
 lage, desired to distinguish itself by some peculiar mark 
 of homage and respect to him, whom they named the 
 Liberator of Italy. . . . Honor beyond that of a 
 crowned head was his own, and had the full relish 
 of novelty to a mind which two or three years before 
 was pining in obscurity. Power was his, and he had 
 not experienced its cares and risks ; high hopes were 
 formed of him by all around, and he had not yet 
 disappointed them. He was in the flower of youth, 
 and married to the woman of his heart. Above all,
 
 118 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 he had the glow of Hope, which was marshalling him 
 even to more exalted dominion; and he had not- yet 
 become aware that possession brings satiety, and that 
 all earthly desires and wishes terminate, when fully 
 attained, in vanity and vexation of spirit." 
 
 The castle of Montebello was then a most agree- 
 able and picturesque place. The excellence of the 
 climate, the beauty of the springtime, the entertain- 
 ments, the banquets, the picnics, the excursions on 
 Lake Maggiore and Lake Como, this perpetual 
 round of duties and pleasures, which give to life 
 variety and fulness, made the castle of Montebello 
 as fascinating as it was interesting. Arnault, in 
 his Souvenirs, describes a dinner there. During 
 the meal, the band of the Guides, the best band in 
 the army, played military marches and patriotic airs. 
 At table the poet sat next to Pauline Bonaparte, 
 then a girl of sixteen, who was soon to become 
 Madame Leclerc. " If," he says, " she was the pretti- 
 est person in the world, she was also the most frivo- 
 lous. She had the manners of a schoolgirl, chattering 
 continually, giggling at everything and nothing, 
 imitating the most serious people, making faces at 
 her sister-in-law when she was not looking, poking 
 me with her knee when I did not pay enough atten- 
 tion to her gambols, and every now and then bringing 
 down on herself one of those terrible glances with 
 which her brother used to crush the most obdurate 
 men ; the next minute she would begin again, and 
 the authority of the commander of the Army of
 
 THE COURT OF MONTEEELLO. 119 
 
 Italy succumbed before the giddiness of a young 
 girl." 
 
 After dinner they drank coffee on the terrace, not 
 going back to the drawing-room till late, and Bona- 
 parte took part in the general conversation : he 
 arranged the diversions of the company, making 
 Madame Leopold Berthier sing, and asking General 
 Clarke for stories ; and he told some himself, prefer- 
 ring fantastic and terrifying incidents, terrible adven- 
 tures, ghost stories, which he made more impressive 
 by using his voice in a way that an actor might 
 have envied. At the end of the evening many of 
 the guests returned to Milan through the strangely 
 illuminated country, for every field was ablaze with 
 thousands of fire-flies which seemed to dance on the 
 turf, springing four or five feet into the air. 
 
 " How many memories recur to me," says Mar- 
 mont, later the Duke of Ragusa, "of this three 
 months' stay at Montebello ! What a busy, impor- 
 tant, hopeful, and happy time it was ! Then, ambi- 
 tion was a thing of minor importance ; our duties 
 and pleasures alone occupied us. We were all on 
 the frankest and most cordial terms, and nothing 
 occurred to mar our harmony." Surrounded by his 
 family, his fellow-soldiers, his lieutenants, who were 
 both his servants and his friends, Bonaparte, who 
 then desired for every nation only peace, concord, 
 and progress, was enjoying a moment of calm. Mar- 
 mont describes him at this period, with the air of a 
 master in his attitude, his expression, and his voice,
 
 120 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 and in public neglecting no opportunity to maintain 
 and augment the universal feeling of respect and 
 subjection ; yet, in private life, with his mother, his 
 wife, his brothers and sisters, his aides-de-camp, ap- 
 pearing kindly, affable even to the point of familiarity, 
 fond of fun, yet never offensive, taking part in the 
 sports of his fellow-officers, and even persuading the 
 solemn Austrian plenipotentiaries to join in them; 
 uttering with uncommon eloquence a number of new 
 and interesting ideas, in a word, " possessing at that 
 happy time a charm to which no one could be insen- 
 sible." 
 
 As for Josephine, whose grace and amiability at- 
 tracted every one, she was trying, so to speak, to play 
 naturally her next part as sovereign. The highest, 
 the most beautiful, the most intelligent ladies of 
 Milan, gathered about her, and admired the exquisite 
 urbanity, the rare tact, and the unfailing kindness 
 with which she did the honors of her drawing-room. 
 "When she was leaving Martinique, an old fortune- 
 teller had told her, ' You will be more than a queen.' 
 Was this prophecy to be realized at once? She 
 was adored by a man who aroused universal admira- 
 tion, surrounded by everything that could delight a 
 woman, and her brow had not yet felt the uneasiness 
 the crown sometimes produces." 1 
 
 Bonaparte continued to be fascinated by his wife, 
 and this anecdote which Arnault tells will show 
 
 1 Memoirs concerning General Auguste de Colbert, by his son, 
 the Marquis Colbert de Chabanais.
 
 TIIE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. 
 
 Josephine's power over her husband. She had a little 
 pug dog called Fortune", of which she was extremely 
 fond, though he reminded her of a time of great 
 sorrow. When she was imprisoned, in the Reign of 
 Terror, she was separated from the Viscount of 
 Baauharnais, who was incarcerated elsewhere. Her 
 children had permission to come to see her at the 
 office, with their governess, but the jailer was always 
 present at these meetings. It occurred to the gov- 
 erness to take Fortund with her; and he made his 
 way to Josephine's cell, carrying concealed in his 
 collar a letter with all the news. After the 9th of 
 Thermidor Josephine would never be parted from 
 her pet. One day at Montebello he was lying on the 
 sofa with his mistress. " You see that fellow there," 
 said Bonaparte to Arnault, pointing at the dog ; " he 
 is my rival. When I married I wanted to put him 
 out of my wife's room, but I was given to under- 
 stand that I might go away myself or share it with 
 him. I was annoyed, but it was to take or to leave, 
 and I yielded. The favorite was not so accommo- 
 dating, and he left his mark on this leg." Insolent 
 like all favorites, Fortund had great faults ; he was 
 continually barking and used to bite everybody, even 
 other dogs. At Montebello lie had the imprudence 
 to bite the cook's dog, a surly mastiff, who with one 
 turn of the head killed the little fellow. Josephine 
 was in despair, and the unhappy cook thought him- 
 self ruined. A few days afterwards he met the gen- 
 eral walking in the garden, and fled in terror. " Why
 
 122 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 do you run away from me in this way?" asked Bona- 
 parte. " General, after what my dog did " 
 " Well ? " "I was afraid that you would hate the 
 sight of me." " Your dog ! Haven't you him 
 any longer ? " " Excuse me, General, he never sets 
 a paw in the garden, especially since Madame has 
 another " " Let him come in as much as he wants ; 
 perhaps he will make way with him too." The gen- 
 tlest and most indolent of Creoles intimidated the 
 most wilful and despotic of men. Bonaparte might 
 win battles, do miracles, create or destroy states, but 
 he could not put a dog out of the room.
 
 XII. 
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 
 
 ONE thing disturbed Bonaparte in the midst of 
 all his success, and that was the perpetual 
 attacks of the reactionary newspapers of Paris. The 
 talk of the drawing-room, the sarcasms of the 
 Emigre's, the unceasing declamation of the Royalist 
 Club in the rue de Clichy had the power of exasper- 
 ating his irascible nature. Besides, he dreaded the 
 Restoration, which was not to take place till seven- 
 teen years later, and more than one Emigre* spoke of 
 it as imminent in 1797. Bonaparte was unwilling at 
 any price to be the second. The part of a Monk had 
 no temptation for him ; and no title, no wealth, could 
 have persuaded him to work for any one but himself. 
 It is also to be borne in mind, that if he had assumed 
 some aristocratic methods, and found pleasure in the 
 society of people of the old regime, he commanded 
 an army of the most ardent and most sincere Repub- 
 licans. He had wrought such miracles with his men, 
 only allying himself in appearance, if not in fact, with 
 the political passions which were the mainspring of 
 their energy and enthusiasm. In their eyes, their gen- 
 
 123
 
 124 CITIZENESS BONAL'ARTE. 
 
 eral was always the man of the 13th Venddmiaire, 
 the terror of the reaction, the sturdy Republican 
 who had shattered the Royalist bands. He thought 
 the time fitting for a grand Republican ceremony 
 which should impress every one by a spectacle in 
 harmony with the ideas and passions of the soldiers ; 
 consequently he decided that July 14, 1797, the anni- 
 versary of the capture of the Bastille, he would ex- 
 hibit his troops at Milan under a purely Republican 
 aspect, and gave orders for a great military festival 
 upon that day, with a programme in perfect harmony 
 with the Revolutionary memories and democratic 
 sentiments of an army which contained so many 
 Jacobins. This festival was to make an impression 
 in Paris and to serve as a prologue to the 18th 
 Fructidor. 
 
 This is a programme of the festival as it was 
 drawn up by the commander-in-chief : 
 
 1. At daybreak a salvo of twenty of the largest 
 cannon shall announce the festival. 
 
 2. The general shall be beaten at nine in the morn- 
 ing. At ten, when the troops start, another salvo 
 shall be fired. 
 
 3. A third salvo shall announce the departure of 
 the commander-in-chief for the scene of the festival, 
 and another salvo shall be fired on his arrival. At 
 the same time all the bands shall play the air, OH 
 peut-on <?tre mieux ? 
 
 4. At noon precisely, the troops, after having made
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 125 
 
 some manoeuvres, will form in a square about the 
 Pyramid. Then first six cannon will be fired for each 
 one of the generals, La Harpe, Stengel, and Dubois ; 
 then five for each brigadier-general; then for each 
 adjutant-general and chief of brigade in the division 
 killed since the 23d Germinal, Year IV., the date of 
 the battle of Montenotte. 
 
 5. The general commanding the division of Lom- 
 bardy will give the flags to each battalion, and six 
 cannon shall be fired at the moment he presents them. 
 
 6. The men shall receive double pay, and double 
 rations of meat and wine. 
 
 7. The festival will terminate with drill and exer- 
 cise. First, artillery practice ; then firing at a target. 
 There will be three prizes given to the three best shots. 
 
 8. Then there will be a match with broadswords 
 and with rapiers, followed by a foot-race with three 
 prizes. 
 
 9. The regimental bands shall play tunes and 
 dance-music, and the soldiers, having piled their arms, 
 shall be free to stroll about until the drums recall 
 them to the ranks. 
 
 10. Officers who own horses and care to enter them 
 for the race must have their names registered. The 
 course will be from the country-house from which 
 the horses started at the last race, to the Arch of Tri- 
 umph. 
 
 11. At nightfall the Pyramid and the Altar of 
 Country shall be illuminated, and bands placed about 
 si Kill play patriotic dances.
 
 126 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 It was not among his soldiers alone, it was also 
 among the Italians, that Bonaparte developed a love 
 of arms and of physical exercise. The whole popula- 
 tion of Milan was transformed. In the schools, the 
 streets, the drawing-rooms, in children's games, educa- 
 tion, habits, and public opinion, there was a complete 
 change. At the theatre the Italian was no longer 
 represented as beaten by the German matador ; it was 
 the Italian who beat and drove away the German. A 
 martial air and a military spirit fascinated the women. 
 Warlike marches took the place of religious songs and 
 amorous serenades. Consequently, this celebration 
 of July 14 enraptured the Milanese. 
 
 Bonaparte was never happier or prouder than when 
 among his soldiers. Every regiment recalled happy 
 memories. He had said at Lonato : " I was at ease ; 
 the 32d was there ! " And for their sole reward the 
 men of the 32d asked to have those few words 
 embroidered on their regimental flag. In his account 
 of the battle of Favorita, he had spoken of the " ter- 
 rible 57th," and the proud 57th, fully rewarded for 
 its losses by this one word, adopted henceforth the 
 name of " The Terrible." 
 
 This celebration inflamed the pride and anger of 
 the army; it was a great manifestation against Roy- 
 alism. On the sides of a high pyramid were inscribed 
 the names of the officers and men who had fallen on 
 the field of honor since the battle of Montenotte. 
 Tins funereal pyramid rose in the middle of a Field 
 of Mars, which was decorated with all the attributes
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 127 
 
 representing the victories of the army, as well as the 
 emblems of liberty, of the French Republic one and 
 indivisible, and of the Constitution of the Year III. 
 After different manoeuvres, the troops formed in a 
 square around the pyramid. The veterans and the 
 wounded marched by, saluted by the troops. Drums 
 were beating ; the roar of cannon was incessant. Then 
 the general reviewed the troops. When he had 
 reached the carabineers of the llth Regiment of light 
 infantry, he said, " Brave carabineers, I am glad to 
 see you ; you alone are worth three thousand men." 
 In front of the 13th, which formed the garrison at 
 Verona, he exclaimed, " Brave soldiers, you see be- 
 fore you the names of your comrades murdered before 
 your eyes at Verona ; but their shades must be satis- 
 fied, the tyrants have perished with their tyranny." 
 The officers of each regiment, preceded by the band, 
 went forward to receive the flags. " Citizens," said 
 the commander-in-chief, "may these banners always 
 be in the path of liberty and victory ! " While the 
 army was marching by, a corporal of the 9th Regiment 
 went up to Bonaparte, and said : " General, you have 
 saved France. Your men, proud to belong to an 
 invincible army, will make a rampart of their bodies. 
 Save the Republic ! Let the hundred thousand men 
 who compose this army crowd together in defence of 
 liberty." And tears ran down the brave soldier's face, 
 It is easy to imagine the enthusiasm of these heroes, 
 covered with wounds and laurel, proud, and justly 
 proud, of themselves, their courage, their triumph:.
 
 128 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 and indignant with the sarcasms which certain 
 Frenchmen did not blush to utter against all this 
 glory and all these sacrifices, so much unselfishness, 
 and so many wonders. Inspired by the fumes of 
 powder, their general's Republican proclamation, 
 and carried away by warlike ardor, the wild applause 
 of the crowd, and the grand military spectacle before 
 their eyes, by the clash of arms, the sight of the flags, 
 the roar of artillery, the trumpets, the drums, and the 
 patriotic hymns, on this warm 14th of July, Bona- 
 parte's soldiers were wild with wrath against the 
 blasphemous defamers of liberty and glory. 
 
 In the evening Bonaparte gave a dinner to the 
 officers and veterans, at which he proposed this toast : 
 " To the shades of the brave Stengel, who fell on the 
 field of Mondovi ; of La Harpe, who died on the field 
 of Formbio ; of Dubois, who died at Roveredo ; and 
 to all the brave men who died in defence of liberty ! 
 May their spirits ever be near us ! They will warn 
 us of the ambushes set by the enemies of our coun- 
 try." This was General Berthier's toast : " To the 
 Constitution of the Year III., and to the executive 
 Directory of the French Republic ! May it, by its 
 firmness, be worthy of the armies and high destinies 
 of the Republic, and may it crush all the foes of the 
 Revolution, who no longer mask themselves ! " The 
 band played Ca ira. This was the toast of a veteran, 
 all scarred with wounds, who had lost a limb : " To 
 the re-emigration of the e'migre's ! " Toast of General 
 Lannes, still bearing the marks of three wounds he
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 129 
 
 had received at Arcole : " To the destruction of the 
 Club of Clichy ! The wretches ! They wish more 
 revolutions. May the blood of the patriots they have 
 assassinated fall on their own heads ! " The band 
 played a charge. 
 
 In the course of the day the different divisions of 
 the Army of Italy had signed addresses which were 
 sent to the Directory by Bonaparte, and inserted in 
 the Moniteur of August 12. 
 
 This is the address of Masse"na's division : " Does 
 the road to Paris present more difficulties than that 
 to Vienna ? No. It will be opened by Republicans 
 who have remained faithful to liberty; we shall 
 defend it, and enemies will have perished." 
 
 Division Augereau : " Is it then true, conspirator, 
 that you are anxious for war ? You shall have it ; 
 villains, you shall have it. ... -You are crafty, 
 astute, faithless, but more than all, you are cowards ; 
 and to fight you we have steel, virtues, courage, the 
 recollection of our victories, the irresistible ardor of 
 liberty. And you, contemptible instruments of your 
 masters' crimes, you who, in your delirium, dare to 
 believe yourself powers, when you are but vile rep- 
 tiles ; you who reproach us for having protected your 
 property, for having carried far from your walls the 
 horrors of war, and for saving the country ; you, in a 
 word, who have made scorn, infamy, outrage, and 
 death the lot of the defenders of the Republic 
 tremble ! From the Adige to the Rhine and tlu> 
 Seine is but a step ; tremble I Your iniquities are
 
 130 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 counted, and their reward is at the point of our 
 bayonets." 
 
 Division Bernadotte : " The Republican constitu- 
 tion appears to be threatened. Our sensitive and 
 generous souls are averse to believing it ; but if the 
 fact is true, speak ! The same arms which assured 
 national independence, the same chiefs who led the 
 phalanxes, still exist. With such aid, you have but 
 to wish it, to see the conspirators vanish from the 
 picture of the living." 
 
 Division Se'rurier : " Speak, citizen Directors, speak ; 
 and at once the wretches who polluted the soil of 
 freedom will have ceased to exist. It will doubtless 
 suffice to crush them, to summon some of our brave 
 companions in arms from the armies of the Rhine 
 and Moselle, and of Sambre and Meuse. We yearn 
 to share with them the honor of purging France of 
 its crudest foes." 
 
 Division Joubert : " What ! the odious Capet who 
 for six years parades his shame from nation to nation, 
 always pursued by our Republican phalanxes, would 
 now bring them under the yoke! If this idea is 
 revolting to any citizen whom love of country has 
 once touched, how much more so to the old soldiers 
 of the Republic ! " 
 
 Division Baraguey d'Hilliers: "We renew the 
 solemn oath of hatred to the factions, of war to the 
 death to Royalists, of respect and fidelity to the Con- 
 stitution of the Year III." 
 
 Division Delmas : " We have sworn to defend, to
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 131 
 
 the last drop of our blood, the liberty of our country. 
 If it is possible that it should ever perish, we are 
 determined to be buried beneath its ruins." 
 
 Division Victor : " No more indulgence, no more 
 half-way measures ! The Republic or death ! " 
 
 The day after these addresses were signed by the 
 officers and soldiers, Bonaparte wrote to the Direc- 
 tory : " The soldier asks eagerly if, in reward for his 
 toils and six years of war, he is to be assassinated in his 
 hearthstone, at his return, the fate which threatens 
 every patriot. ... Are there no more Republicans 
 in France? After conquering Europe, shall we be 
 forced to seek some little corner of the earth in 
 which to end our sad lives ? By one stroke you can 
 save the Republic, and two hundred thousand lives 
 which are bound with our fate, and secure peace 
 within twenty-four hours : have the Emigre's arrested, 
 destroy the influence of the foreigners. If you need 
 force, summon the armies. Demolish the presses in 
 English pay, which are more sanguinary than ever 
 Marat was. As for me, citizen Directors, it is im- 
 possible for me to live amid such conflicting passions ; 
 if there is no way of putting an end to our country's 
 sufferings, to crushing the assassinations and influ- 
 ence of Louis XVIII., I present my resignation." 
 
 Bonaparte's soldiers looked upon him as a William 
 Tell, a Brutus, the terror of tyrants, the saviour of 
 liberty. Perhaps there was not a man in his whole 
 army who suspected him of not being an ardent Re- 
 publican. Yet, at that very moment, when he was,
 
 132 CITIZENESS BONAPAHTE. 
 
 so to speak, the inspiring spirit of the 18th Fructidor, 
 he was already, in intimate conversation, indicating 
 his plans of dictatorship and empire. In the Count 
 Miot de Mojito's Memoirs there is to be noticed a 
 very curious revelation : " I happened to be," he 
 says, "at Montebello with Bonaparte and Melzi, and 
 Bonaparte took us both" a long walk in the vast gar- 
 dens of this beautiful estate. Our walk lasted about 
 two hours, during which time the general talked 
 almost incessantly. ' What I have done so far,' he 
 said, ' is nothing. I am now only at the beginning 
 of my career. Do you think I have been triumphing 
 here in Italy for the greater glory of the lawyers of 
 the Directory? Do you think it was to establish 
 a republic ! What an idea ! A republic of thirty 
 million men ! With our morals, our vices, is such a 
 thing possible ? It is a chimera that fascinates the 
 French, but which will pass away like so many 
 others. What they need is glory, the gratification of 
 the vanity ; but they know nothing of liberty. Look 
 at the army. The victories we have already won have 
 given the French soldier his real character. I am every- 
 thing for him. Let the Directory think of deposing 
 me from my command, and we shall see who is mas- 
 ter. The nation demands a man illustrious by repu- 
 tation, and not for theories of government, phrases, 
 and the speeches of theorists, which the French don't 
 understand in the least. Give them a rattle, and 
 they are satisfied ; they will amuse themselves with 
 it and let themselves be led, provided that one hides
 
 JULY 14 AT MILAN. 133 
 
 the end towards which one leads them. ... A party 
 is moving in favor of the Bourbons. I do not mean 
 to contribute to its triumph. I mean, some day, to 
 weaken the Republican- party ; but it shall be for my 
 own advantage, and not for that of the old dynasty. 
 Meanwhile, I shall keep in line with the Republican 
 party.' " 
 
 He had to dissimulate for a few years more, and it 
 was at the very moment that the young leader thus 
 imprudently betrayed to Miot de Me'lito his most 
 secret thoughts, that he assumed this thoroughly 
 Revolutionary aspect before the eyes of his army, 
 and that by sending Augereau to Paris he prepared 
 for the 18th Fructidor, a day most fatal to the reac- 
 tionary party, and full of the most direful results. 
 We may say that in these circumstances, Bonaparte, 
 who possessed all the Italian craft and astuteness, 
 exhibited the skill and genius of a Machiavelli.
 
 XIII. 
 
 BONAPARTE AND THE 18TH FRUCTIDOR. 
 
 IN 1797 Bonaparte was a Republican, not, how- 
 ever, on account of the Republic but for his own 
 advantage. What he condemned in the Royalists was 
 not that they threatened the Republicans, but that 
 they desired to bar his way to the throne. His in- 
 dignation with the Royalist reaction was above all 
 things the result of personal ambition. Apparently 
 he was defending the Republic ; in fact, he was 
 laying the foundation of the Empire. 
 
 " I have been blamed," he said one day to Madame 
 de Re"musat, "with having favored the 18th Fructi- 
 dor; it is like blaming me for supporting the Revo- 
 lution. It was necessary to get some profit from the 
 Revolution, and not let all the blood be shed in vain. 
 What ! consent to surrender unconditionally to the 
 House of Bourbon, who would have reproached us 
 with all our misfortunes after their departure, and 
 have silenced us by the desire we had shown for their 
 return ! Change our victorious flag for the white 
 flag, which had not feared to mingle with the enemy's 
 standard! And as for me, I was to be pacified \vitli 
 
 134
 
 BONAPARTE AND THE 1STH FRUCT1DOR. 135 
 
 a few millions and some duchy or other ! Thero 
 is one thing certain : I should have thoroughly 
 known how to dethrone the Bourbons a second time 
 if it had been necessary, and perhaps the best counsel 
 that could have been given them would have been to 
 get rid of me." 
 
 Bonaparte's double game never manifested itself 
 more clearly than in the preparations for the 18th 
 Fructidor. His official envoy to Paris, the man 
 whom he sent to the Directory as the official repre- 
 sentative of the Republican feeling of his army, and 
 as the leader of the approaching coup cTtat, was the 
 Jacobin general, the child of the Paris suburbs, Auge- 
 reau. But at the same time he had sent on a recent 
 mission to the capital a man in whom he had perfect 
 confidence, his aide-de-camp, Lavalette, whose man- 
 ners and social relations were those of a man of the 
 old regime. Through Augereau, Bonaparte deter- 
 mined to act on the Republicans ; through Lavalette, 
 on the Royalists. Already, in fact, he was plotting 
 the system of fusion which was to be the basis of his 
 domestic policy, and later to enable him to give the 
 titles of prince and duke to former members of the 
 Convention, and to endow regicides with the broad 
 ribbons of Austrian orders. Through Augereau, he 
 won the confidence of the most ardent democrats; 
 through Lavalette, he protected the families of the 
 e'migre's. and Josephine's old friends. His plan was 
 to secure for himself the benefits of the coup cTStat, 
 and to appear to quell its excesses. By sending
 
 136 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Augereau to Paris lie also derived this advantage, 
 that he got rid of a general whose noisy Jacobin 
 ways displeased him ; for he so dreaded his influence 
 us a demagogue that he wrote to Lavalette : " Auge- 
 reau is going to Paris ; don't confide in him ; he has 
 sown disorder in the army. He is a factious man." 
 
 The Directory soon detected this double play, but 
 it regarded Bonaparte as essential for its purposes, 
 because his army would serve as a counterpoise to the 
 ever-growing reactionary spirit, and it felt too weak 
 to break with the conqueror of Italy. Lavalette was 
 equally an object of suspicion, and his goings and 
 comings, his visits, his letters, and words, were all 
 closely watched. The antagonism between Bonaparte 
 and Barras, although latent, was already visible to 
 those who could look beneath the surface. The 
 Directory was about to win a victory which contained 
 the seeds of defeat. The 18th Fructidor was to pro- 
 duce the 18th Brumaire. 
 
 C" Madame de Stael, whose drawing-room was a centre 
 of influence, was most eager in defence of the Repub- 
 lic and bitterly hostile to the reaction : she saw both 
 Augereau and Lavalette. "Although Bonaparte," 
 she said, " was always talking about the Republic in 
 his proclamations, careful observers discerned that it 
 was in his eyes a means, not an end. It was in this 
 light that he regarded everybody and everything. 
 The rumor ran that he wanted to make himself King 
 of Lombardy. One day I met General Augereau, 
 who had just come from Italy, and was everywhere
 
 BONAPARTE AND THE 1STH FRUCTIDOR. 137 
 
 looked upon, and I think rightly, as an ardent Repub- 
 lican. I asked him if it was true that Bonaparte was 
 thinking of making himself king. ' No, certainly not,' 
 he answered ; ' he's too well trained for such a thing.' 
 This singular answer fitted well with the ideas of the 
 moment. Earnest Republicans would have consid- 
 ered it a degrading thing that a man, however distin- 
 guished, should wish to use the Revolution for selfish 
 purposes. Why was this view so shortlived among 
 the French?" 1 
 
 At this period Madame de Stae'l affected genuine 
 adoration of Bonaparte. Lavalette met her at dinner 
 at the house of M. de Talleyrand, the Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs. " During the whole dinner," he 
 says, " her praise of the conqueror of Italy had all the 
 fire and exaggeration of inspiration. When we rose 
 from table, we all went into a side room to see the 
 hero's portrait, and as I drew back to let the others 
 pass, she stopped, and said, 4 What ! should I think of 
 going before an aide-de-camp of Bonaparte?' My 
 confusion was so manifest that even she was a little 
 embarrassed, and the master of the house laughed at 
 her. I went to see her the next day ; she received 
 me so kindly that I often called on her afterwards." 
 C Madame de Stael at that time nourished two pas- 
 sions: for Bonaparte and for the Republic. She, 
 more than any one, urged on the coup cTtat of Fnu- 
 tidor. "I am convinced," Lavalette says further, 
 
 1 Madame de StaePs Considerations upon the French Revolution.
 
 138 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 " that she had not foreseen the cruelties that would 
 be inflicted on the defeated party, but I never sa\\ 
 such zeal in urging them." She herself was alarmed 
 by the deed which her words had helped to bring 
 about. She records that in the evening of the 17th 
 Fructidor, the alarm was so great that most well- 
 known persons left their houses for fear of arrest. 
 In spite of her Republican zeal, she felt alarmed 
 on account of relations with Royalists. One of her 
 friends found a hiding-place for her in a little room 
 overlooking the bridge Louis XVI. ; there she passed 
 the night, looking out on the preparations for the 
 terrible events which were to take place a few hours 
 later. Only soldiers were to be seen in the streets ; 
 all the citizens were indoors. The cannon which 
 were massed about the building in which sat the 
 Corps Le*gislatif (the Palais Bourbon) rolled over 
 the pavement ; but, with that exception, absolute still- 
 ness prevailed. In the morning it was learned that 
 General Augereau had led his troops into the Coun- 
 cil of the Five Hundred, and there arrested the re- 
 actionary deputies. Two of the Directors were pro- 
 scribed, and fifty-one representatives were driven in 
 wagons through the agitated country, and sent, in 
 iron cages, to deadly exile in Cayenne ; the owners^ 
 editors, and writers of forty-one newspapers were 
 likewise all transported ; the elections of forty-height 
 deputies were cancelled ; the press was gagged and 
 silenced ; the priests and e'migre's were again driven 
 out of the country : such were the consequences of
 
 BONAPARTE AND THE 18TH FRUCTIDOR. 139 
 
 the 18th Fructidor; the triumph of the military spirit. 
 As Edgar Quinet says: "All respect for law was 
 lost; nothing was seen or admired but the drawn 
 sword. . . . After the victory of the soldiers, there 
 was nothing left to do but to crown a soldier." 
 
 It was Bonaparte who was to get all the profit from 
 the 18th Fructidor; but before the Royalists of Paris, 
 whom he was treating gently, with an eye to the 
 future, he wished to appear as disapproving of the 
 excesses of a day which was to be of so great service 
 to him. Lavalette wrote to him that he would tar- 
 nish his glory if he appeared to give his support 
 to unjustifiable assaults upon the national representa- 
 tives and upon worthy citizens. These views made 
 so deep an impression upon Bonaparte that, during 
 the days that preceded the coup d'etat, Bonaparte, in 
 his letters to the Directory, abstained from expressing 
 himself on the domestic affairs of France. Lavalette 
 had passed the evening of the 17th Fructidor at the 
 Luxembourg with Barras. From the ill-concealed 
 excitement of the Director's courtiers, he conjectured 
 what was in the wind, and went away early, deter- 
 mined not to make his appearance there the next 
 day, because he did not wish, by his presence, to 
 make it seem that Bonaparte approved of such vio- 
 lent measures. 
 
 Nevertheless, Lavalette went to see Barras the 
 next day but one. The Director said to him in a 
 very threatening way : " You have betrayed the Re- 
 public and your general. For more than six weeks
 
 140 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the government has received no private letters 
 from him: your opinion on recent events is well 
 known, and we do not doubt that you have painted 
 our conduct in the blackest colors; I want to tell 
 you that last evening the Director} 7 " seriously dis- 
 cussed the question whether you should not share 
 the fate of the conspirators who are on their way to 
 Guiana. Out of regard for General Bonaparte, you 
 remain at large ; but I have this moment sent my 
 secretary to enlighten him on what has taken place 
 and on your conduct." 
 
 Lavalette replied with perfect coolness : " You are 
 quite mistaken ; I have betrayed no one. The 18th 
 is a calamity; I can never be convinced that the 
 government has the right to punish blindly the rep- 
 resentatives of the people, to break every law. For 
 six weeks I have written nothing else ; and if you 
 wish to convince yourself of this fact, here is the key 
 of my desk ; you may seize my papers." Lavalette 
 lingered a few days in Paris, lest his hasty departure 
 should be ascribed to fear. Before starting, he visited 
 General Augereau, to see if he could do anything for 
 him. The general spoke about Bonaparte with great 
 indifference, and about the 18th Fructidor with 
 much more enthusiasm than he would have shown 
 about the battle of Arcole. "Do you know," he 
 said, "that you ought to have been shot for your 
 conduct ? But don't be alarmed ; you may count on 
 me." Lavalette smiled, and thanked him; but he 
 saw that it was useless to put this kindness to the
 
 BONAPARTE AND TIIE 18TH FRUCTIDOR. 141 
 
 test, and the next day he left for Italy. He left 
 Paris the 1st Vende'miaire, when the Directory, the 
 ministers, and all the constituted authorities were 
 proceeding to the Champ de Mars to celebrate the 
 first day of the Year VI. of the Republic. 
 
 For his part, Bonaparte, who posed before his 
 army, which was entirely made up of Republicans, 
 as an ardent supporter of the 18th Fructidor, had 
 addressed the following proclamation to his troops : 
 " Soldiers, we are about to celebrate the 1st Vende*- 
 miaire, a date most dear to the French ; it will be a 
 day of renown in the world's annals. This is the 
 day from which dates the foundation of the great 
 nation; and the great nation is called by fate to 
 astonish and console the world. Soldiers, far from 
 your country, and triumphant over Europe, chains 
 had been prepared for you ; you knew it, you spoke 
 of it ; the people awoke and seized the traitors ; they 
 are already in irons. You will learn, from the proc- 
 lamation of the Executive Directory, the plots of the 
 special enemies of the soldiers, and particularly of 
 the divisions of the Army of Italy. This preference 
 does us honor; hatred of traitors, tyrants, and slaves 
 will be in history our proudest title to glory and 
 immortality." 
 
 It was not Bonaparte alone who thus played the 
 part of the fanatical Republican : there was Talley- 
 rand, too, the former bishop, Talleyrand who, some 
 years later, at the Vienna Congress, was to speak of 
 legitimacy with so much fervor. He wrote to Bona-
 
 142 CITIZENESS BONAPAETE. 
 
 parte four days after the 18th Fructidor : " A real 
 conspiracy, and wholly to the profit of Royalty, had 
 long been plotting against the Constitution. Already 
 it had cast off its mask, and had become visible to 
 the most indifferent eyes. The name of patriot had 
 become an insult ; every Republican institution was 
 insulted; the bitterest foes of France had returned 
 to it, and had been welcomed and honored. A hypo- 
 critical fanaticism had suddenly carried us back to 
 the sixteenth century. . . . The first day speedy 
 death was decreed for any one who should recall 
 Royalty, the Constitution of '93, or the d'Orle'ans." 
 
 When Lavalette got back from Paris, he found 
 Bonaparte installed at Passeriano, and he gave the 
 fullest details of everything that had happened. The 
 general asked, " Why, with such scornful processes, 
 so much weakness ? Then why such rashness, when 
 boldness was enough ? It was a piece of cowardice 
 not to try Pichegru; his treason was flagrant, and 
 the evidence was more than enough to condemn him. 
 . . . Force is very well when one can use nothing 
 else ; but when one is master, justice is better." 
 Then he continued his walk in the garden in silence. 
 Finally, he added, as he took leave of Lavalette, 
 " On the whole, this revolution will prove a good 
 spur to the nation." In fact, the real conqueror of 
 the 18th Fructidor was not the Directory; it was 
 Bonaparte.
 
 XIV. 
 
 PASSBRIANO. 
 
 rpOWARDS the middle of September, 1797, 
 -L Bonaparte, accompanied by his wife, his fam- 
 ily had left after Pauline's marriage with General 
 Leclerc, had taken up his quarters in the Friuli, 
 at the castle of Passeriano, there to conclude diplo- 
 matic negotiations with the Austrian government. 
 This was a fine country-place belonging to Manin, the 
 former doge, and was on the left bank of the Tagli- 
 amento, four leagues from Udine, and three from 
 the ruins of Aquileia. Here the warrior appeared as 
 a peace-maker. Being secured against the Royalists 
 by the coup d'Stat of the 18th Fructidor, from which 
 he got the profit without the odium, he at once 
 appeared in the light of a conservative, and in his 
 relations with the Austrian plenipotentiaries he re- 
 membered with pleasure that his wife was of high 
 rank and that he himself was a gentleman. He 
 already manifested his pretensions to noble birth of 
 which Prince Metternich speaks in his Memoirs. 
 According to the famous Austrian diplomatist, he set 
 great store by his nobility and the antiquity of his
 
 144 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 family. " More than once," adds Prince Metternich, 
 "he has tried to prove to me that only envy and 
 calumny have been able to throw any doubts on his 
 nobility. ' I am in a singular position,' he used to 
 say. ' There are genealogists who trace my family 
 back to the deluge, and others say that I am of low 
 birth. The truth lies between the two. The Bona- 
 partes are good Corsican gentlemen, not famous, 
 because we have seldom left the island, and a good 
 deal better than many of the coxcombs who pre- 
 sume to look down on us.' " 
 
 The Austrian plenipotentiaries were Count Louis 
 de Cobenzl, the Marquis of Gallo, General Count 
 Mersfeld, and M. de Ficquelmont. Count Cobenzl 
 was at that time leading Austrian diplomatist. 
 He had been ambassador to the principal Euro- 
 pean courts, and for a long time in Russia, during 
 the reign of Catherine the Great, whose especial 
 esteem he had succeeded in winning. "Proud of 
 his rank and importance," we read in the Memorial 
 of Saint Helena, " he had not a doubt that his man- 
 ners and familiarity with courts would easily over- 
 whelm a general who had risen from the camps of the 
 Revolution; consequently he met the French gen- 
 eral with a certain levity, but the air and the first 
 remarks with which he was greeted soon put him in 
 his proper place, in which he remained ever after." 
 M. de Cobenzl was an accomplished man of the 
 world, a true representative of the old rdgime. He 
 was a brilliant and witty talker, who told most cleverly
 
 PASSERIANO. 145 
 
 stories of every court of Europe ; he was famous for 
 his social skill, and he greatly amused Madame 
 Bonaparte, who found in him the manners of the 
 old court of Versailles. 
 
 The Marquis of Gallo, a most acute, supple, and 
 conciliating man, was not an Austrian; he was a 
 Neapolitan, and ambassador from Naples to the court 
 of Vienna. There he had won such regard that 
 Austria chose him for one of its plenipotentiaries. 
 
 " Yours is not a German name," Bonaparte said to 
 him the first time he saw him. " You are right," 
 answered the Marquis of Gallo; "I am ambassador 
 from Naples." " And since when," asked the French 
 general dryly, " have I had to treat with Naples ? 
 We are at peace. Has not the Emperor of Austria 
 any more negotiators of the old stamp? Is all the 
 old Viennese aristocracy extinct?" The Marquis, 
 who feared lest these remarks should come to the 
 official notice of the Vienna cabinet, at once devoted 
 himself to smoothing down Bonaparte, who at once 
 became gentle, being perfectly satisfied with having 
 got an advantage over the Marquis which he never 
 lost. The Marquis of Gallo, who later was ambassa- 
 dor from the Bourbons of Naples to the First Con- 
 sul, then ambassador from King Joseph Bonaparte 
 to the Emperor Napoleon, confessed to him frankly, 
 when speaking of their first meeting, that no one had 
 ever in his life so frightened him. 
 
 The two other plenipotentiaries were General von 
 Mersfeld, a distinguished officer, an upright man, of
 
 146 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 fine manners, and M. de Ficquelmont, who was thor- 
 oughly versed in all the Austrian statecraft. Their 
 meetings were held at Bonaparte's headquarters at 
 Passeriano, and at the residence of the Austrian plen- 
 ipotentiaries, at Udine, alternately. The negotiators 
 took turns in dining at each other's houses. Distrac- 
 tions were fewer than at Montebello, but life there 
 was not wholly without charm. " Our stay at Pas- 
 seriano," says the Duke of Ragusa, " comes back most 
 pleasantly to my memory ; it had a quality that was 
 nowhere repeated. . . . We devoted ourselves to 
 active exercise, to maintain our strength and develop 
 our skill ; yet we did not neglect study and the cul- 
 tivation of our mind. Monge and Berthollet used to 
 teach us every evening ; Monge giving us lessons in 
 that science of which he established the principles, 
 now so well known, descriptive geometry." 
 
 It was at Passeriano that General Desaix visited 
 Bonaparte. They spent several days together, and 
 became much attached to each other. " Desaix," 
 adds the Duke of Ragusa, "had not forgotten my 
 prophecies, so quickly realized, about General Bona- 
 parte ; he reminded me of them as soon as he saw me. 
 He expressed to General Bonaparte his desire to ac- 
 company him on his next campaign. It was from 
 this visit that dates the first thought of the campaign 
 in Egypt. Bonaparte liked to talk about this classic 
 land ; his mind was full of memories of history, and 
 he took great pleasure in forming more or less feasi- 
 ble plans about the East."
 
 PASSERIANO. 147 
 
 Bonaparte's aides-de-camp found a peaceful pleas- 
 ure in this agreeable stay at Passeriano ; but the gen- 
 eral had most serious matters to fill his mind, and 
 his relations with the Directory, whose servant after 
 all he was, became every day more strained. He 
 regarded it a special token of their distrust that 
 Bottot, the private secretary of Barras, had been 
 sent to Passeriano. At table he loudly and frankly, 
 before twenty or thirty persons, used to accuse the 
 government of injustice and ingratitude. He sus- 
 pected the Directors of trying to make use of Auge- 
 reau as a rival, and with similar craft and subtlety he 
 kept writing and saying that his health and energy 
 were destroyed; that he needed a few years' rest; 
 that he was unable to get on a horse ; but that nev- 
 ertheless the prosperity and liberty of his country 
 always excited his liveliest interest. What would 
 he have done if the Directory had taken him at his 
 word? 
 
 With regard to diplomatic questions his opinions 
 differed fundamentally from those of the government. 
 He was convinced that peace was possible only on 
 the condition of sacrificing Venice to Austria. The 
 Directory, on the other hand, considering that the 
 French Republic could not without dishonor abandon 
 a republic to a monarch, desired not only Venetian 
 independence, but that the whole peninsula should 
 be made republican, that the temporal power of the 
 Pope should be broken, and the kingdoms of Pied- 
 mont and Naples destroyed. This radical policy in
 
 148 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 no way suited Bonaparte's views. He knew that in 
 order to attain supreme power he should need the 
 clergy; and although he had so often declaimed 
 against tyrants, he thought it better to show some 
 consideration for the sovereigns whom within a few 
 years he should have to treat as brothers. The atti- 
 tude which he adopted at Passeriano bespeaks such 
 calculations. A clear-sighted observer might have 
 already detected, in this tool of the Directory, the 
 First Consul and Emperor. By his education, his 
 tastes, his marriage, his ideas and principles, he 
 belonged to both the old society and the Revolution. 
 From each he took what aid he could, for the grati- 
 fication of his ambition and the realization of his 
 dreams. " My campaign was not a bad one," he said 
 one day to Madame de Re'musat, speaking of this 
 period of his life. " I became an important person for 
 Europe. On one hand, by means of my order of the 
 day, I encouraged the Revolutionary system ; on the 
 other, I secretly won the e'migre's ; I let them form 
 hopes. It's always easy to deceive that party, be- 
 cause they never think of what is, but of what they 
 want. I received most magnificent offers if only I 
 would follow General Monk's example. The Preten- 
 der wrote to me, in his hesitating, flowery style. I 
 secured the Pope more by not going to Rome than 
 if I had burned his capital. Finally, I became impor- 
 tant and formidable ; yet the Directory, which was 
 uneasy about me, could bring no charge against me." 
 Never was the skilful dissimulation, which was one
 
 PASSERIANO. 149 
 
 of the principal qualities of Bonaparte's character, 
 more ingenious and more refined. He wrote to the 
 Directory : " My moral condition requires that I min- 
 gle with the mass of citizens. A great power lias 
 too long been entrusted to my hands. In every case 
 I have employed it for the good of my country : so 
 much the worse for those who, believing in no virtue, 
 may have suspected mine. My reward is my own 
 conscience and the verdict of posterity." October 1, 
 1797, he wrote to Talleyrand : " All that I am now 
 doing, all the arrangements I am now settling are 
 the last service I can render my country. My health 
 is wholly destroyed ; health is indispensable, and, in 
 war, nothing can take its place. The government 
 will doubtless, in accordance with my request of 
 a week ago, have appointed a commission of publi- 
 cists to organize a free Italy ; new plenipotentiaries 
 to continue or renew the negotiations ; and, finally, 
 a general to whom it can entrust the command of the 
 army, for I know no one who can take my place 
 in these three equally interesting posts." 
 
 The Directory was jealous and suspicious ; it al- 
 ready had a presentiment that it would find its master 
 in Bonaparte ; but it rivalled him in dissimulation, 
 and, in refusing to accept his resignation, made pro- 
 testations of friendship which were anything but 
 sincere. Bottot, Barras's secretary, wrote to Bona- 
 parte, after his return from Passeriano to Paris, that 
 his last moments at Passeriano had sorely distressed 
 his heart ; that cruel thoughts had accompanied him
 
 150 C1TIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 to the very doors of the Directory; but that these 
 cruel thoughts had been dispelled by seeing the 
 admiration and affection which the Directors felt for 
 the conqueror of Italy. In spite of these protesta- 
 tions, which on both sides were mere political manoeu- 
 vring, the hostility between Barras and Bonaparte, 
 although lessened by Josephine's secret influence, 
 was yet plain to clear-sighted eyes, and was to cease 
 only with the act of violence of the 18th Brumaire.
 
 XV. 
 
 JOSEPHINE AT VENICE. 
 
 WHILE Bonaparte was at Passeriano, Josephine 
 went to spend a few days at Venice, which 
 had been occupied by a French garrison since May 16. 
 Its old aristocracy had been overthrown, and a law- 
 yer, Dandolo, had put himself at the head of the 
 provisional government. Bergamo, Brescia, Padua, 
 Vicenza, Bassano, Udine, were all separate republics. 
 Everywhere were adopted the principles of the 
 French Revolution ; the Italian national colors were 
 adopted, a confederation was formed. The proud 
 Venetian Republic hoped to preserve its independ- 
 ence, but it was not without a secret uneasiness as 
 to the negotiations at Passeriano. Its former atti- 
 tude of haughtiness and hostility to Bonaparte and 
 the French had become one of obsequiousness and 
 entreaty. It besought the young conqueror to visit 
 it, and promised him the most unheard-of ovations ; 
 but Bonaparte had already decided to abandon Ven- 
 ice to Austria in return for Mantua and the Adige, 
 and he did not dare to show himself in a city which 
 his plans were about to ruin. He clearly perceived 
 
 151
 
 152 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 that after the ultra-democratic proclamations which 
 he had written, after the solemn sending to Paris of 
 busts of Junius and Marcus Brutus, he would appear 
 very inconsistent if he were to give over a republic, 
 bound hand and foot, to an emperor. If he had gone 
 to receive on the square of Saint Mark the applause 
 which the expiring city promised him, he would seem 
 to have played a traitor's part. His spirit of dissimu- 
 lation did not go so far as that; but Josephine, who 
 was not admitted to diplomatic secrets, might go to 
 the Venetian festivities as to a simple pleasure-party. 
 She was averse to leaving Italy without seeing this 
 wonderful and famous city, and she got her husband's 
 leave to go there under the escort of Marmont. She 
 appeared at the City of the Doges, with all her usual 
 grace, kindliness, and amiability. " To see her so 
 affable and so smiling towards every class of society, 
 no one would have suspected the dark plans which her 
 husband was weaving against the independence of 
 the noble and illustrious Republic. Doubtless Venice 
 was at fault : its neutrality had been neither prudent 
 nor loyal; the Veronese Vespers had been a grave 
 crime. But the punishment was terrible, and what 
 would be the feelings of the patriots who were soon 
 to see that most terrible sight, the annihilation of 
 their country ? " 
 
 Yet Venice was still rejoicing; the credulous 
 populace still nourished illusions; so easy is it to 
 believe what one hopes. The nobility of the main- 
 land, with its long-lived jealousy of the aristocracy
 
 JOSEPHINE AT VENICE. 158 
 
 of the lagoons, saw with pleasure the fall of the 
 oligarchy which it detested. The middle classes, 
 fancying themselves emancipated, noisily welcomed 
 the triumph of French ideas. As to the rabble, they 
 thought no more of the past, and scarcely considered 
 the future , delighted with the festivities, they gave 
 themselves up to the pleasures awaiting them with 
 true southern enthusiasm. 
 
 The Venetians, with the best will in the world, 
 being unable to prostrate themselves before the man 
 who held their fate in his hands, spared no pains at 
 the reception of his wife, to devise what could grat- 
 ify and flatter her. Madame Bonaparte spent four 
 days at Venice ; it was one perpetual magical en- 
 chantment. The City of the Doges is most beautiful 
 with its wealth of marble palaces and magnificent 
 monuments, its pictures and frescoes, the master- 
 pieces of Tintoretto, Titian, the two Palmas, Paul 
 Veronese, with its Piazza of Saint Mark, its won- 
 derful cathedral, its Ducal Palace, rich in treasures 
 and memories! The visitor is overwhelmed with 
 admiration and respect when he enters the cele- 
 brated Greater Council Chamber, which in its won- 
 derful pictures condenses the history of the Queen 
 of the Adriatic just as the grand gallery of Versailles 
 records the history of the Sun King! Here one 
 sees popes come to seek shelter in Venice, emperors 
 entreating its alliance, accepting its mediation ; one 
 sees its fleets conquering islands, its armies scaling 
 ramparts, its victories on land and sea, and in the
 
 154 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 middle of the ceiling, the Republic, in the form of a 
 radiant woman, smiling at the display of its wealth 
 and grandeur ; then there is the series of the por- 
 traits of all the doges, from the first, Luca Anafeste, 
 elected in 697, to the last, Manini, who, eleven 
 hundred years afterwards, had just been deposed by 
 the French ! A singular omen : the portrait of the 
 Doge Manini filled the only place left empty at the 
 time of his election : there was no room for a suc- 
 cessor. But the Venetians did not trouble them- 
 selves about this gloomy sign; they had but one 
 care, to give Madame Bonaparte a grand reception. 
 The first day the Grand Canal was in gala dress. 
 A hundred and fifty thousand spectators filled the 
 windows and roofs that overlooked it. There were 
 boat-races; five or six long and narrow boats, pro- 
 pelled by but one man, contended over the course 
 which ran from the beginning of the canal to the 
 Rialto. The second day, a trip in the boats; all the 
 gondolas were covered with flowers and garlands. 
 The third day, another excursion, but by night, when 
 palaces, houses, gondolas, were all illuminated : it was 
 like a sea of flame ; fireworks of many colors were 
 reflected in the water, and the evening closed Avith 
 a ball in the Ducal Palace. "If one reflects," says 
 Marmont, "of the advantages which its situation 
 gives to Venice, of the beauty of its architecture, of 
 the endless movement of crowded boats, which make 
 it look like a moving city, if one thinks of the efforts 
 such circumstances called forth in this imaginative
 
 JOSEPHINE AT VENICE. 155 
 
 people with their exquisite taste and unbounded love 
 of pleasure, one may conjecture the spectacle that 
 was offered us. It was not Venice, the seat of power, 
 but Venice, the house of beauty and pleasure." 
 
 No, it was no longer Venice in its power, " Ven- 
 ice," as Chateaubriand says, "the wife of the Adri- 
 atic and Queen of the Seas, the Venice which gave 
 emperors to Constantinople and kings to Cyprus, 
 -princes to Dalmatia, to the Peloponnesus, to Crete 
 the Venice which humiliated the Caesars of Germany ; 
 the Venice of which monarchs esteemed it an honor 
 to be the citizens ; the Venice which, republican in 
 the midst of feudal Europe, served as a buckler to 
 Christianity; the Venice, planter of lions, whose 
 doges were scholars, whose merchants, knights ; the 
 Venice which brought back from Greece conquered 
 turbans or recovered masterpieces ; the Venice which 
 triumphed by its splendor, its courtesans, and its arts, 
 as well as by its great men ; Venice, at once Corinth., 
 Athens, and Carthage, adorning its head with rostral 
 crowns and diadems of flowers." No, it was no longer 
 the former Venice. A profound decadence was visi- 
 ble in these festivities given in honor of Madame 
 Bonaparte. What had become of that freest of cities 
 which had maintained its independence since its foun- 
 dation in the fifth century ? Where were the famous 
 bronze horses that had pawed the air above the en- 
 trance of Saint Mark's? They had been sent to Paris 
 as part of the spoils. And the famous lion, the lion 
 of the holy patron of Venice ? He had suffered the
 
 156 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 same fate. The great saint whose relics are in the 
 church founded in the beginning of the ninth century 
 by the liberality of Justinian Participazio no longer 
 protected the city which had so trusted in him. Ah ! 
 what had become of her who 
 
 " looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, 
 Rising with her tiara of proud towers 
 At airy distance, with majestic motion, 
 A ruler of the waters and their powers : 
 
 ******* 
 
 In youth she was all glory, a new Tyre, 
 
 Her very byword sprung from victory, 
 
 The ' Planter of the Lion,' which through fire 
 
 And blood she bore o'er subject earth and sea ; 
 
 Though making many slaves, herself still free, 
 
 And Europe's bulwark 'gainst the Ottomite. 
 
 Witness Troy's rival, Candia ! Vouch it, ye 
 
 Immortal waves that saw Lepanto's fight! 
 
 For ye are names no time nor tyranny can blight." 
 
 Childe Harold, Canto IV. 
 
 It is all over; no more shall be seen the wedding 
 of the doges and the Adriatic ! And where is the 
 Bucentaur, the famous barge resembling Cleopatra's, 
 the huge carved boat, with golden rigging? Where 
 is the time when the Doge put forth from Venice in 
 the Bucentaur, and, proceeding in triumph to the 
 passage of the Lido, cast into the sea a consecrated 
 ring, uttering these sacramental words : " Desponsa- 
 mus te, mare, in signum veri perpetuique dominii," 
 "Sea, we marry you in sign of true and everlasting 
 dominion ! " The ambassadors of every power, even 
 the Pope's nuncio, seemed by their presence to recog-
 
 JOSEPHINE AT VENICE. 157 
 
 nize the validity of this mystical marriage. What 
 has become of the Bucentaur ? At first it had been 
 intended to send it to France in tow of some frigate; 
 but for fear lest it should be captured on the way by 
 some English cruiser, it was decided to burn it. Also 
 there was burned that famous Book of Gold, in which 
 patricians, even monarchs themselves, were proud to 
 have their names inscribed. Venice, instead of re- 
 joicing, had better have put on sackcloth, and the 
 flowers with which it decked itself in its folly would 
 have been better thrown on the coffin of its independ- 
 ence and glory ! Its cries of joy seemed sounds of 
 irony. The song of the gondoliers should have been 
 a funeral wail. The authority which presided over 
 its festivities was not a majestic and formidable doge, 
 but a foreigner, a Creole woman, who must have been 
 surprised to appear amid the lagoons like a real queen.
 
 XVI. 
 
 CAMPO FORMIO. 
 
 r I ^HE diplomatic negotiations still went on, but the 
 JL time was coming near when they would have to 
 be brought to some settlement or to be broken off. 
 Bonaparte's situation, in spite of wonderful victories, 
 continued to be critical. He was acting in a sense 
 opposed to the orders of his government, and could 
 only succeed by imposing his will upon it. At any 
 moment there might arrive a messenger from Paris 
 with a despatch that would at once overthrow the 
 scaffolding he had so carefully constructed. He had 
 more fear of the Directory than of Austria, and it 
 was from the Luxembourg that came his principal 
 difficulties. Bonaparte was about to send a double 
 ultimatum, one for the Austrian government, the 
 other for his own. By his private letters ho had pre- 
 pared Talleyrand, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, 
 for the settlement on which he had already deter- 
 mined, and foreseeing the agreement which was to 
 exist between himself and this once great lord, he 
 had assumed in his communications airs of sympathy 
 and confidence. In this correspondence he made 
 
 158
 
 CAMPO FORMIO. 159 
 
 short work of the Italian forces and of the revolu- 
 tionary propaganda. He said : " I have no Italians 
 in my army, except about fifteen hundred vagabonds 
 picked up in the streets of the different cities. They 
 are thievish, good-for-nothing fellows. . . . You im- 
 agine that liberty produces great results from a 
 weak, superstitious people. . . . The King of Sar- 
 dinia, with a battalion and a squadron, is stronger 
 than all the Cisalpine people together. That is a 
 historic fact. All that is only fit to put into procla- 
 mations and printed speeches is mere romantic stuff. 
 ... If we were to happen to adopt the external 
 policy of 1793, we should make all the greater mis- 
 take because we have done well with the opposite 
 policy, and we no longer have those great masses to 
 recruit from, or that first outburst of enthusiasm 
 which lasts but a short time." Being anxious to 
 sacrifice the Venetians, he wrote, " They are a 
 feeble, effeminately cowardly race, without land or 
 water, of whom we have no need." 
 
 At this very moment he received from the Direc- 
 tory an order to revolutionize all Italy. This was 
 the ruin of his plan, because he was anxious to main- 
 tain the Papal States, the kingdoms of Naples and 
 Sardinia, and to give up Venice to Austria, while 
 the Directory desired not only to save the Venetian 
 Republic, but also to transform all the Italian States 
 without exception into republics. The divergence 
 of their views was complete. No one but Bonaparte 
 would have dared to act in opposition to the letters
 
 160 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 and spirit of the government's instructions, but 
 already he depended only on himself. Paying no 
 attention to the Directory, he followed only his own 
 inspirations, and, October 16, he had an interview 
 with the four plenipotentiaries, which was destined 
 to be decisive. Count Cobenzl announced that Aus- 
 tria would never renounce Mayence except in 
 exchange for Mantua. Bonaparte, however, was de- 
 termined that Mantua should remain in the Cisal- 
 pine Republic. A violent scene resulted from disa- 
 greement. Bonaparte arose in a fury, and stamping 
 on the ground, exclaimed, " You want war ; well, 
 you shall have it ! " And seizing a magnificent porce- 
 lain teaset which M. de Cobenzl used to boast every 
 day that Catherine the Great had given him, 
 dashed it with all his might upon the floor, shivering 
 it into a thousand fragments. " See ! " he shouted 
 again; "such, I promise you, shall be your Austrian 
 monarchy before three months are over ! " Then he 
 rushed out of the room. 
 
 Bonaparte was playing everything on one throw; 
 he had smashed Count Cobenzl's porcelain, but was 
 it so sure, if the Count had taken him at his word 
 and the negotiations had been broken off, that he 
 would have destroyed the Austrian monarchy so eas- 
 ily as he said ? Was it certain that he would not be 
 disavowed by the Directoiy ? Would Paris have 
 pardoned him for sacrificing Venice and refusing to 
 revolutionize all Italy ? Did he not run the risk of 
 receiving that same evening a despatch which would
 
 CAMPO FORMIO. 161 
 
 upset his whole work? As on the battle-field, he 
 adopted the boldest plan, and with no fear of the 
 consequences that might ensue from his simulated 
 wrath, he hastened the final result. A secret pre- 
 sentiment told him that he would overcome every 
 obstacle, whether on the part of Austria or of the 
 Directory, and that events would take the course he 
 desired; that he was the master. And, in fact, every- 
 thing conspired to further his plans. He was enjoy- 
 ing one of those runs of luck when the gambler sud- 
 denly wins everything and is amazed at his own good 
 fortune. He knew very well that if the treaty were 
 once signed, the Directory would not dare to refuse 
 its ratification. As he rushed from the room, he in a 
 loud voice ordered word to be sent to the Archduke 
 Charles that hostilities would be resumed in twenty- 
 four hours, and sprang into his carriage without 
 seeming to notice the entreating gestures of the Mar- 
 quis of Gallo, who, with many low bows, was begging 
 him not to depart. 
 
 The next day the scene had changed. M. Cobenzl, 
 on second thoughts, decided to accede to Bonaparte's 
 proposition; and the French general, for his part, 
 tried his best, by the utmost amicability, to secure a 
 pardon for his pretended wrath of the day before. 
 That same day (October 17, 1797) was signed the 
 peace which took its name from the village of Campo 
 Formio, which lies half-way between Udine and Pas- 
 seriano. "Yet," says the Duke of Ragusa in his 
 Memoirs, "not a single conference had been held
 
 162 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 there ; it was merely the place where the treaty was 
 signed. I was despatched thither to make the neces- 
 sary preparations, and at the same time to invite the 
 plenipotentiaries to push on to Passeriano, to which 
 they very graciously assented. They signed before 
 dinner, dating the treaty at Campo Formio, where 
 the preparations had been made for form's sake ; and 
 doubtless there are still shown in this village the room 
 in which the great event took place and the pen and 
 table that were used. It is with these relics as with 
 so many others." The copying of the treaties took 
 all day ; there were no more discussions. General 
 Bonaparte was full of a charming gaiety, and, remain- 
 ing in the drawing-room, he asked that no candles be 
 brought when it became dark. They amused them- 
 selves with conversation and even with ghost stories, 
 as if they were all staying together in some old castle. 
 At last, towards ten o'clock, word was brought that 
 the copies were finished. Bonaparte signed gaily. 
 At midnight General Berthier was on his way to 
 Paris with a copy of the treaty. Twelve hours later 
 a messenger from the Directory reached Passeriano, 
 bearing positive orders which would have prevented 
 Bonaparte from signing the treaty if he had received 
 them the evening before. 
 
 He felt anxious about the ratification. Would 
 the Directory consent to the destruction of the Vene- 
 tian Republic ? Would the provisory government of 
 Venice make one final effort to save the independ- 
 ence of the country? It commissioned three dele-
 
 CAMPO FORMIO. 163 
 
 gates, one of whom was the lawyer Dandolo, to go 
 to Paris and spend whatever money was necessary to 
 prevent the ratification of the treaty. The Duke of 
 Ragusa remarks that this step, if it had succeeded, 
 would have been the ruin of Bonaparte, the tomb of 
 his glory ; he would have been denounced to France 
 and to Europe, as having exceeded his powers and 
 as having, through corrupt means, shamefully aban- 
 doned a people and enslaved a republic. He would 
 have disappeared forever from the scene in the 
 deepest disgrace. Consequently, as soon as he 
 learned of the departure of the Venetian delegates 
 for France, his only thought was to have them ar- 
 rested on the way. Duroc, who was sent in pursuit 
 of them, seized them and brought them to Milan, 
 where Bonaparte was. "I was in the room of the 
 commander-in-chief," Marmont continues, "when he 
 received them ; the violence of his remarks may be 
 readily conjectured. They listened with quiet dig- 
 nity; and when he had finished, Dandolo replied. 
 Dandolo, who generally possessed no courage, was 
 on that day filled with it by the greatness of his 
 cause. He spoke easily, and was indeed eloquent. 
 He enlarged upon the benefits of independence and 
 liberty, on what a good citizen owes to his country. 
 The force of his reasoning, his sincerity, his deep 
 emotion, brought tears to Bonaparte's eyes. He ma < li- 
 no reply, but dismissed the deputies most gently and 
 kindly ; and ever since he has felt for Dandolo a con- 
 stant kindness and fondness. Ho has always sought
 
 164 CITIZEN ESS BONAPAltTE. 
 
 for an opportunity to advance and benefit him ; and 
 yet Dandolo was a very ordinary man : but this man 
 had stirred his heart by his lofty sentiments, and the 
 impression he made has never faded." 
 
 In spite of the sorrow of the Directory, the Direc- 
 tory did not dare to refuse the ratification of a treaty 
 which gave to France its natural boundaries, and rec- 
 ognized in Northern Italy the existence of a new 
 republic founded on the principles of the French 
 Revolution. " Peace at last," wrote Talleyrand, 
 " and a peace such as Bonaparte desires ! Receive my 
 warmest congratulations, my dear General. Words 
 fail me to describe everything that is felt at this time. 
 The Directory is satisfied; the public delighted; 
 everything is in the best condition. To be sure, we 
 shall hear some lamentations from Italy ; but that's 
 nothing. Farewell, peacemaking General, farewell! 
 friendship, respect, admiration, gratitude there's no 
 end to the list." France, always mercurial, at that 
 moment was longing for peace as ardently as, a few 
 weeks before, it had longed for war. Bonaparte had 
 consulted his own interests at a most propitious 
 moment, and yet every one w r as praising his disin- 
 terestedness. It was thought most admirable of him 
 to renounce, out of patriotism, the game of battles 
 for which his genius so well adapted him. He was 
 compared to Cincinnatus returning to his plough ; he 
 was everywhere represented as a model of self-denial. 
 The Moniteur, which doubtless was controlled by 
 his friends, was preparing to make his return very
 
 CAMPO FORMIO. 165 
 
 impressive. Everything was arranged for this pur- 
 pose. The journey from Passeriano to Paris was to 
 inspire a host of stories to strike the imagination of 
 the masses and arouse public curiosity. Letters full 
 of the minutest details of this triumphal progress 
 appeared in swift abundance in the Moniteur, adding 
 to the extreme interest which was felt in the slightest 
 actions and most insignificant remarks of the con- 
 queror of Italy. When he passed through Mantua, 
 he slept in the palace of the former dukes. In the 
 evening the whole city was illuminated. The next 
 day he reviewed the garrison ; then he went to Saint 
 George, where there took place a military celebration 
 in memory of General Hoche, and at noon he em- 
 barked on a boat, to see the monument he had had 
 built in honor of the prince of Latin poets. He 
 parted from Josephine, who stayed some time longer 
 in Italy with her son Eugene ; and November 17, 
 1797, left Milan for Rastadt, where a congress was 
 in session, destined to extend to the whole German 
 Empire the peace concluded between France and 
 Austria.
 
 XVII. 
 
 BONAPARTE'S RETURN TO FRANCE. 
 
 T3ONAPARTE left Milan November 17, 1797, 
 I J accompanied by Marmont, Duroc, Lavalette, as 
 well as by Bourrienne, his secretary, and Yvan, his 
 physician. He passed through Piedmont, but refused 
 to stop at Turin and see the King of Sardinia ; but 
 that monarch sent him his compliments and a number 
 of presents, two handsome horses with magnificent 
 fittings, and two horse-pistols set with diamonds, 
 which had belonged to the late King, Charles Em- 
 manuel. Bonaparte crossed the Mount Cenis. When 
 he reached Chambe'ry, he was greeted most warmly. 
 Thence he went to Geneva, where he stopped for a 
 day. He refused to call on Necker, who was waiting 
 for him at the roadside, near the castle of Coppet. 
 He also, in spite of the desires of his aides-de-camp, 
 refused to visit Ferney, having a grudge against the 
 memory of Voltaire. His carriage broke down a 
 league from Morat, and he went part of the way on 
 foot. The roads were filled by a vast crowd, who spent 
 the night standing in order to see the conqueror of 
 Italy. He reached Morat November 23; it was a 
 
 166
 
 BONAPARTE'S RETURN TO FRANCE. 167 
 
 market-day, and his arrival was most anxiously 
 awaited : the chief magistrate prepared to receive 
 him with all possible honors. Let us quote from a 
 letter sent to Paris from Morat, and printed in the 
 Moniteur : " I looked with keen interest and extreme 
 admiration at this extraordinary man, who has done 
 such great things, and seems to promise that his 
 career is not yet concluded. I found him very like 
 his portrait, short, slight, pale, looking tired, but not 
 ill, as I had heard. It seemed to me that he listened 
 somewhat absent-mindedly and with no great interest, 
 as if much more occupied with his own thoughts than 
 with what was said to him. His face is full of intel- 
 ligence, and wears an expression of constant reflec- 
 tion, revealing nothing of what is going on inside this 
 thoughtful head, this sturdy nature, in which doubt- 
 less were forming plans destined to have great influ- 
 ence over the fate of Europe. A worthy citizen of 
 Morat, about five feet seven or eight inches tall, was 
 much struck by the general's appearance. ' That's a 
 pretty small height for such a great man,' he ex- 
 claimed, loud enough to be heard by an aide-de-camp. 
 * It's exactly the height of Alexander,' I said, bring- 
 ing a smile to the aide's face. He said, ' That is not 
 the most striking point of resemblance.' Bonaparte 
 stopped near the monument of bones at Morat and 
 asked to be shown the place where the battle it com- 
 memorated was fought. They pointed out a plain in 
 front of a chapel. An officer who had served in 
 France explained how the Swiss, descending from
 
 168 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the neighboring mountains, were able, aided by a 
 dense wood, to outflank the Burgundian army and 
 rout it. 'How large was this army?' asked Bona- 
 parte. ' Sixty thousand men.' ' Sixty thousand men ! 
 They must have covered the mountains.' Then Gen- 
 eral Lannes said, ' Nowadays the French fight better 
 than that.' ' At that time,' replied Bonaparte, ' the 
 Burgundians were not Frenchmen.' " 
 
 The journey was a series of ovations. Reaching 
 Berne at night, Bonaparte passed through a double 
 line of brilliantly lit carriages, filled with pretty 
 women. His entrance into Basle was announced by 
 cannon on the city ramparts. At once the fortress of 
 Huningue replied to the salvo of artillery. At 
 Offenburg were the headquarters of Augereau, at 
 that time commander-in-chief of the Army of the 
 Rhine. Augereau was anxious to treat him as an 
 equal; he sent an aide with his compliments to 
 Bonaparte, and an invitation to stay a while with 
 him. Bonaparte sent word that he was too busy to 
 stop, and pushed on without seeing his former subor- 
 dinate. He entered Rastadt under the escort of a 
 squadron of Austrian hussars, and found there the 
 plenipotentiaries of the German powers ; but he did 
 not care to tire himself in long and tedious negotia- 
 tions, and was glad to be recalled by the Directory. 
 He hastened to take post for Paris, and reached there 
 December 5, at five o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 Bonaparte went to the little house in the rue de la 
 Chantereine whence he had departed, almost obscure,
 
 BONAPARTE'S EETUEN TO FRANCE. 1G9 
 
 twenty-one months before, and he returned famous. 
 The ambitious men who leave Paris, and are as 
 anxious about its judgment as was Alexander about 
 that of Athens, can never return thither without 
 anxiety. They wonder, and not without emotion, 
 what their glory will amount to in that vast city, 
 with its population so keenly susceptible, yet withal 
 so fickle, and where everything is soon lost in the 
 waves of that human ocean, the people. Great curi- 
 osity was excited by the return of the young con- 
 queror. How would the Directors greet this hero 
 whose glory eclipsed their pallid renown? And what 
 did he want? To be a Csesar? a Cromwell? a 
 Monk? a Washington? Such were the questions 
 that agitated the multitude ; but the prevailing im- 
 pression was that Bonaparte was one of Plutarch's 
 heroes, that his genius was only equalled by his self- 
 denial. The Parisians, in their eagerness to create 
 an idol, ascribed to their favorite every merit, every 
 virtue. The infatuation was universal ; to see Bona- 
 parte, to speak with him, became every one's ambi- 
 tion. The newspapers showed unvarying zeal in 
 printing the most trivial details about him. Every 
 other subject seemed insipid. Talleyrand called on 
 him the evening of his arrival. Bonaparte begged 
 to be excused from receiving him, and the next day 
 called at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where he 
 was received with marks of the warmest respect. 
 His interview with the Directors was most cordial. 
 Everywhere his affability and modesty were talked
 
 170 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 about. Gratitude was felt for the visits he returned, 
 not merely to the principal state functionaries, but 
 also to humbler officials. In the Moniteur of Decem- 
 ber 10 we read : " General Bonaparte is living in his 
 wife's hous"e, rue Chantereine, Chausse"e d'Antin. 
 This house is simple, and with no pretence to luxury. 
 It has been said that he will leave, on the 26th, for 
 Rastadt. He goes out seldom, and unaccompanied, 
 in a plain, two-horse carriage. He is often seen 
 walking alone in his modest garden." 
 
 This little house in the rue Chantereine, which he 
 had left, two days after his wedding, to go to Italy, 
 and which recalled so many happy memories, was for 
 him once more, to use Marmont's expression, the 
 temple of love. But it was no fault of his brothers 
 if he did not suffer there the torments of a keen 
 jealousy. 
 
 We have said that he started from Milan Novem- 
 ber 17, leaving Josephine there, who meant to pass a 
 few days there with her son, Eugene de Beauharnais, 
 who had come from Rome to see her before her 
 return to France. Lavalette says in his Memoirs, 
 that Bonaparte's brothers, wishing to be the only 
 ones who had any influence over him, tried to lessen 
 that which Josephine possessed through her hus- 
 band's love. "They tried," he goes on, "to arouse 
 his jealousy ; and for this purpose made the most of 
 her stay at Milan, a stay which was authorized by 
 Bonaparte. His regard for his wife, his journey ings, 
 his incessant preparations for the expedition to Egypt,
 
 BONAPARTE'S RETURN TO FRANCE. 171 
 
 gave him no time to indulge in such suspicions. I 
 shall speak later about the intrigues of Bonaparte's 
 brothers, and their determination to undermine Jo- 
 sephine in his heart. I was intimate with both, and 
 thus fortunate enough to prevent, or much relieve, 
 the mischief." 
 
 Bonaparte had scarcely time enough for jealousy ; 
 but, granting that he felt some pangs, the incessant 
 gratification of his pride must have been an ample 
 compensation. When he was at the theatre, no 
 one listened to the actors; every glass was turned 
 towards the box in which he half h'd himself to make 
 curiosity the keener. As soon as he went to walk, 
 a crowd gathered about him. Knowing the Parisian 
 character, and that the attention of the great capital 
 would not long linger on the same subject, he did 
 not make himself common, and in his language, as 
 well as in his dress and manners, he affected a sim- 
 plicity in marked contrast to his glory, which could 
 not fail of its effect on a Republican public. In 
 spite of this assumed modesty, he was perpetually 
 devising methods of giving France and the world 
 new surprises. At this time, it was not love, but 
 ambition, that ruled his soul. Nevertheless, he con- 
 tinued to love Josephine ; and although his affection 
 had no longer the fire and flame of the first days of 
 his married life, he must have regretted her absence 
 at the triumphal festival of December 10 at the 
 Luxembourg.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 
 
 rTIHE festivity of December 10 took place at the 
 -l_ Luxembourg, where the Directors were to give 
 a formal reception to the conqueror of Italy. The 
 rooms of the palace were too small for the occasion, 
 so the large courtyard was turned into a vast hall 
 adorned with trophies and flags. At eleven in the 
 morning the members of the Directory assembled at 
 the palace, at the rooms of their colleague, La Re*- 
 veilldre-Lepeaux. The ministers, the members of 
 the Diplomatic Body, the officers of the garrison of 
 Paris, were announced in succession. At noon the 
 artillery posted in the garden gave the signal for the 
 beginning of the festival. A band, playing the favor- 
 ite airs of the French Republicans, preceded the pro- 
 cession, which passed through the galleries of the 
 palace and went into the large courtyard. At the 
 end, close to the main vestibule, rose the altar of the 
 country, surmounted by statues of Liberty, Equal- 
 ity, and Peace. Below the altar were five chairs for 
 the Directors, who wore a Roman dress, and a plat- 
 form for the members of the Diplomatic Body. On 
 
 JTO
 
 TIIE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 173 
 
 each side rose a vast semicircular amphitheatre for 
 the constituted authorities and the Conservatory of 
 Music. To the right and left of this amphitheatre 
 was a bundle of flags of the different armies of the 
 Republic. The walls were adorned with tricolored 
 hangings; and over the altar and the amphitheatre 
 was suspended a large awning. A vast multitude 
 filled the courtyard and the windows of the rooms, 
 which served as galleries. All the leaders of Pari- 
 sian society were gathered at this entertainment, 
 which had been much talked about. Every one 
 looked eagerly forward to seeing and hearing the 
 man whose name was on every one's lips. The 
 women wore their handsomest dresses, anxious to 
 see and to be seen ; they and the spectacle itself at- 
 tracted equal attention. The men, proud of their 
 uniforms, the fashionable beauties, proud of their 
 splendor, were greeting one another ; and the noisy 
 crowd awaited with impatience its favorite's arrival. 
 The President of the Directory gave orders to an 
 usher to go and summon the Ministers of War and 
 of Foreign Affairs, Generals Bonaparte and Joubert, 
 and the Chief of Brigade, Andre'ossy, who were in 
 the apartments of La ReVeille"re-Lepeaux. 
 
 The Conservatory orchestra played a symphony, 
 but suddenly .the noise of the instruments Mas 
 drowned by an outburst of cheers. Cries arose from 
 every side, "Long live the Republic! Long live 
 Bonaparte ! Long live the great nation ! " " There 
 he is ! " they shouted. " There he is, so young and so
 
 174 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 famous ! There is the hero of Lodi, of Castiglione, 
 of Arcole, the peacemaker of the continent, the rival 
 of Alexander and Caesar ! there he is ! " His modest 
 stature, his gauntness, his air of feebleness, made him 
 no less majestic, for he wore the majesty of glory. 
 No further attention was paid to the Directors or to 
 the famous men who were there ; on him, and on 
 him alone, every eye was fixed. He advanced calmly 
 and modestly, accompanied by the Ministers of 
 Foreign Affairs and of War, and followed by his 
 aides. The chorus of the Conservatory sang the 
 H} r mn to Liberty ; the Moniteur tells us that " the 
 assembly, in a transport of delight, repeated the 
 chorus of the martial song. The invocation to Lib- 
 erty and the sight of the liberator of Italy electri- 
 fied every soul ; the Directory, the whole procession, 
 all who were there, arose and stood bareheaded 
 during this solemn performance. General Bonaparte 
 then advanced to the foot of the altar of the country, 
 and was presented to the Directory by Citizen Tal- 
 leyrand, Minister of Foreign Relations, who spoke as 
 follows : ' Citizen Directors, I have the honor of pre- 
 senting to the Executive Directory Citizen Bona- 
 parte, who brings the ratification of the treaty of 
 peace concluded with the Emperor. While bringing 
 us this certain pledge of peace, he recalls, in spite of 
 himself, the numberless marvels that have brought 
 about this great event ; but let him reassure himself, 
 I will pass over in silence all that which will win the 
 honor of history and the applause of posterity ; I will
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 175 
 
 say to-day that this glory, which casts so bright a 
 glow on France, belongs to the Revolution. With- 
 out that, indeed, the genius of the Conqueror of 
 Italy would have languished in vulgar honors.' " 
 Talleyrand took great pains to combine the Republic 
 and the general in his eulogies. " All Frenchmen," 
 he said, " have conquered in Bonaparte ; his glory 
 is the property of all ; there is no Republican who 
 cannot claim his portion. . . . Personal greatness, 
 so far from offending equality, is its proudest 
 triumph, and on this very day French Republicans 
 ought to feel themselves greater." 
 
 Citizen Talleyrand, as the future Prince of Bene- 
 vento was then called, used the language of the most 
 accomplished courtiers. Beneath democratic formulas 
 appeared the most refined and subtle tone of the old 
 regime. The ministers of Louis XIV. were not more 
 accomplished in the arts of flattery. Life is full of 
 curious vicissitudes! This Citizen Talleyrand, the 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs under the Republic one 
 and indivisible, was the former bishop who said mass 
 in the presence of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette 
 on the altar of the Champ de Mars, at the festival of 
 the Federation. This ardent Republican, the insti- 
 gator of the 18th Fructidor, was to appear one day 
 as the champion of legitimacy, and to forget that he 
 had ever been a minister of the Republic and of the 
 Empire. 
 
 Yet Bonaparte was extremely pleased by Talley- 
 rand's delicate flatteries. Having been so often ac-
 
 176 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 cused by the e'migre's of being a mere Jacobin general, 
 he was highly gratified to be praised by a great noble- 
 man, by one of the most important persons of the 
 former court. For his part, Talleyrand, who had a 
 keen appreciation of honors and wealth, knew very 
 well that this young man before whom he made obei- 
 sance would soon be in a position to distribute them ; 
 hence the refinement in the flatteries which the for- 
 mer bishop addressed to his hero. "And when I 
 think," he said in closing, " of all that he has done 
 to make us pardon this glory, of the antique love of 
 simplicity that distinguishes him, of his love for the 
 abstract sciences, of the sublime Ossian who appears 
 to detach him from earth, when every one knows his 
 disdain for show, luxury, and splendor, those petty 
 ambitions of ordinary minds, then, far from dreading 
 his ambition, I feel that some day perhaps we may be 
 compelled to summon him from the calm joys of his 
 peaceful retreat. All France will be free, but he, 
 perhaps, never: such is his destiny. At this very 
 moment a new enemy calls him, renowned for its 
 hatred of the French and its insolent tyranny towards 
 all the nations of the earth. May it, through Bona- 
 parte's genius, promptly expiate both, and may a 
 peace worthy of all the glory of the Republic be 
 imposed upon the tyrants of the sea ; may it avenge 
 France and reassure the world ! " 
 
 They scarcely listened to Talleyrand, and found 
 him long-winded; for they were impatient to hear 
 Bonaparte, the hero of the day. Every instant which
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 177 
 
 postponed the moment when the hero of Arcole was 
 to speak seemed to them like time lost, and only the 
 extravagant praise which he heaped upon the hero 
 of the day excused the length of the Minister's 
 speech. Citizen Talleyrand finished his peroration 
 with these words : " Carried away by the pleasure 
 of speaking about you, General, I perceive too late 
 that the vast throng which surrounds you is impatient 
 to hear you, and you, too, must blame me for delaying 
 the pleasure you will have in listening to one who 
 has the right of addressing you in the name of all 
 France and of addressing you in the name of an old 
 friendship." 
 
 At last Bonaparte was about to speak. His simple 
 and modest countenance, said the Moniteur, con- 
 trasted with his great reputation. Every one imagined 
 him commanding at the bridge of Lodi, at Arcole, at 
 the crossing of the Tagliamento, or dictating peace 
 at Campo Formio. There was a deep silence. Bona- 
 parte handed to the President of the Directory the 
 Emperor's ratification of the treaty of Campo For- 
 mio, and spoke as follows : u Citizens, the French peo- 
 ple, in order to be free, had to fight with its kings. 
 In order to attain a constitution founded on reason, 
 it had to contend with eighteen centuries of preju- 
 dice. The Constitution of the Year III. was made, 
 and you triumphed over every obstacle. Religion, 
 feudality, royalty, have successively governed Europe 
 for twenty centuries, but the peace you have just 
 concluded dates the era of representative govern-
 
 178 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 ments. You have succeeded in organizing the great 
 nation whose vast territory is limited because nature 
 itself has drawn its boundaries. You have done 
 more. The two fairest parts of Europe, long since 
 so famous for the arts and sciences, and for the great 
 men whose birthplace it was, see with the greatest 
 hopes the genius of liberty rising from the tomb of 
 their ancestors. They are the two pedestals on which 
 destiny is to erect two powerful nations. I have the 
 honor to hand to you the treaty signed at Campo 
 Formio and ratified by His Majesty the Emperor. 
 This peace assures the liberty, the prosperity, and the 
 glory of the Republic. When the happiness of the 
 French people shall be established on better organic 
 laws, all Europe will become free." 
 
 This short speech, delivered in a jerky voice, in a 
 tone of command, produced a deeper impression than 
 would have done the voice of the most famous orators 
 of the century. When Bonaparte had finished, rap- 
 turous applause broke forth on every side, and spread- 
 ing from the rooms, it continued all about in the 
 neighboring streets, which were filled by a dense 
 crowd. 
 
 Then Citizen Barras began to speak as President 
 of the Directory, and it must be said that if, as gen- 
 erally asserted, he nourished a secret jealousy of 
 Bonaparte, he was able to conceal it ; for his speech 
 was even more enthusiastic than Talleyrand's, as may 
 be inferred from the opening words : " Citizen Gen- 
 eral, Nature, chary of prodigies, bestows seldom great
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 179 
 
 men upon the world, but it must be desirous to mark 
 the dawn of liberty by one of these phenomena, and 
 the sublime Revolution of the French people, without 
 precedent in the history of nations, has been permitted 
 to add a new genius to the list of great men. You, 
 first of all, Citizen General, have known no equal, 
 and by the same force with which you have shattered 
 the enemies of the Republic, you have surpassed all 
 the rivals that antiquity held up before you. . . . 
 After eighteen centuries, you have avenged France 
 for the fortune of Csesar. He brought into our coun- 
 try subjection and destruction ; you have carried into 
 his ancient land liberty and life. Thus is paid the 
 huge debt which the Gauls had contracted to haughty 
 Rome." Bonaparte avenging Caesar's good fortune 
 is, to say the least, a singular notion. Then Barras, 
 adopting a less austere tone, denounced " that herd 
 of intriguing, ambitious, ignorant, destructive men, 
 whose plans are destroyed, whose powerlessness is 
 unveiled, whose ill-gotten wealth is unmasked by 
 peace." Then he broke out against the cabinet of 
 London, " which, ignorant of the art of war, under- 
 stands only how to mix poisons and to sharpen assas- 
 sins' daggers." After a long eulogy of the "immortal 
 18th Fructidor," Barras ended by inviting Bonaparte 
 to punish the British government. " Your heart," he 
 said, " is the Republican temple of honor ; it is to the 
 mighty genius which fills you that the Directory en- 
 trusts this grand enterprise. Let the conquerors of 
 the Po, the Rhine, and the Tiber follow in your foot-
 
 180 C1T1ZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 steps ; the ocean will be proud to carry them, for it 
 is an unconquered slave who blushes at his chains ; 
 as it roars, it invokes the earth's wrath against the 
 tyrant who burdens it with his fleets. It will fight 
 for you ; the elements second a free man. . . . You 
 are the liberator whom outraged humanity summons 
 with plaintive cries. ... Of the enemy you will find 
 only his crime. Crime alone sustains this perfidious 
 government ; crush it, and its fall will speedily teach 
 the world that if the French people is the benefactor 
 of Europe, it is also the avenger of the rights of 
 nations." 
 
 After his long and pompous harangue, Barras held 
 out his arms to Bonaparte and gave him a fraternal 
 embrace. " All the spectators were moved," says the 
 Moniteur ; "all regretted that they, too, could not 
 embrace the General who has deserved so well of his 
 country, and offer him their share of the national 
 gratitude." 
 
 Bonaparte then descended the steps of the altar, 
 and the Minister of Foreign Relations led him to a 
 chair set in front of the Diplomatic Body. Then 
 the choruses and the orchestra of the Conservatory 
 performed the Song of the Return, the words by Citi- 
 zen Che'mer, the music by Citizen Me'hul. There 
 was a couplet for warriors, one for old men, one for 
 the bards, one for young girls. The song ended 
 thus : 
 
 "TnE WARRIORS. 
 Let us unite in bonds of Hymen our hands and our hearts.
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 181 
 
 THE YOUNG GIRLS. 
 Hymen and love are the Conqueror's reward. 
 
 THE WARRIORS.' 
 Let us create other warriors, and bequeath to them victory 
 
 THE WARRIORS AND THE YOUNG GIRLS. 
 That some day, at their words, their bright eyes, 
 
 One will say : They are the children of the brave ! 
 
 That, deaf to tyrants, to slaves, 
 They always hearken to the voice of the oppressed." 
 
 The Minister of War then presented to the Direc- 
 tory General Joubert and Chief of Brigade Andrc*- 
 ossy, whom Bonaparte had commissioned to take to 
 the Directory the flag presented to this brave army, 
 in token of the national gratitude, by the Legislative 
 Body : it bore inscriptions in gold letters recounting 
 the principal exploits of the conquerors of Italy. 
 They formed most glorious record: that they had 
 taken one hundred and fifty thousand prisoners, five 
 hundred and fifty pieces of siege artillery, and six 
 hundred field-pieces; that they had won eighteen 
 pitched battles ; that they had sent to Paris the mas- 
 terpieces of Michael Angelo, Guercino, Titian, Paul 
 Veronese, Correggio, Albano, the Carracci, Raphael, 
 and Leonardo da Vinci ! There was the famous 
 standard, the oriflamme of the Republic! "What 
 Frenchman," exclaimed the Minister of War, " what 
 Frenchman worthy of the name will not feel his heart 
 beat at the sight of this banner? Eternal monument of 
 the triumph of our arms, be forever consecrated in the 
 French capitol, amid the trophies won from conquered
 
 182 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 nations ! Glory to you, valiant defenders of our coun- 
 try, generals and soldiers, who have covered with such 
 glory the cradle of the Republic ! " 
 
 After a speech from General Joubert and another 
 from Andre'ossy, the artillery saluted the banner with 
 a general salute. The President of the Directory 
 received it from the hands of the two warriors. " In 
 the name of the French Republic," he exclaimed, " I 
 salute you, the flag recalling such mighty feats ! . . . 
 Brave soldiers, proceed to the banks of the Thames 
 to rid the universe of the monsters who oppress and 
 dishonor it. ... Let Saint James's Palace be over- 
 thrown ! The country wishes it ; humanity requires 
 it; your vengeance commands it. ... Citizen Gen- 
 eral, you appear surrounded with the halo of your 
 glory within the walls where, a few months ago, rav- 
 ing conspirators madly shouted, ' And this man still 
 lives ! ' Yes, he lives for the glory of the nation and 
 the defence of the country." The Conservatory cho- 
 ruses chanted the Song of Return, the public joining 
 in, as a superior officer carried away reverentially the 
 banner of the Army of Italy, to hang it aloft in the 
 Council Room of the Directory. 
 
 It was a grand festivity ; the transports of enthusiasm 
 were sincere and generous. The government that pre- 
 sided over these solemn rites has been too often the 
 subject of derision. Did it not possess one talisman 
 to console every misfortune, victory ? Could it, in 
 sight of the amazed and fascinated Diplomatic Body, 
 give to France that fine, glorious name, of which the
 
 THE FESTIVITY AT THE LUXEMBOURG. 183 
 
 whole world judged it worthy, that of the great 
 nation ? Yes ; it was with a sort of religious awe that 
 this joyous multitude pronounced the word, liberty. 
 Yes ; on that day the Revolution appeared under an 
 immortal aspect. Yes; the valiant soldiers who had 
 wrought such miracles of heroism felt that at last 
 they were amply rewarded for their fatigues, their 
 sufferings, their triumphs. Doubtless it is easier to 
 criticise than to imitate the Directory. A govern- 
 ment which could use such haughty language in the 
 face of Europe has claims, in spite of its faults and 
 weaknesses, upon the indulgence of posterity. A 
 government that gave to France its natural bounda- 
 ries, and which could win not merely the territory, 
 but also the hearts of the people it annexed, rested on 
 principles and ideas of a grandeur that cannot fail to 
 be recognized.
 
 XIX. 
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT AT THE MINISTRY OF FOREIGN 
 RELATIONS. 
 
 IN his Souvenirs of a Sexagenarian, the poet Ar- 
 nault narrates that in June, 1789, while walking 
 near the Swiss lake, at Versailles, he noticed a man 
 lying down under a tree, apparently plunged in 
 solitary and philosophic thought. " His face, which 
 was not devoid of charm," he goes on, "struck me 
 less by its beauty than by its expression, by a certain 
 combination of indifference and malignity, which 
 gave it a very singular air, as if it were the head of 
 an angel animated by the mind of a devil. It was 
 evidently of a fashionable man, who was accustomed 
 to arouse more interest in others than he felt for 
 them ; of a man who, though young, was already sated 
 Avith worldly pleasures. I should have inclined to 
 suppose it was the face of some favorite colonel, had 
 not the cut of the hair and the bands told me that it 
 belonged to an ecclesiastic, and the pastoral cross 
 assured me that this ecclesiastic was a bishop." 
 
 A year later, July 14, 1790, among the half-million 
 spectators who covered the slope of the Champ de 
 
 184
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT. 185 
 
 Mars was Arnault, watching the Festival of the Fed- 
 eration, when he saw on a hillock where mass was to 
 be celebrated in the open air, a bishop advancing, a 
 cope on his back, a mitre on his head, cross in hand, 
 distributing floods of holy water with patriotic prodi- 
 gality on the royal family, the court, the army, and 
 the populace. " What was my surprise," he goes on, 
 " to recognize in him the prelate of Versailles ! For 
 a year I had heard the Bishop of Autun much talked 
 about. His face explained to me his conduct ; and 
 his conduct his face." 
 
 Arnault must have been still more surprised to 
 find, in 1797, Monseigneur the Bishop of Autun 
 transformed into Citizen Talleyrand, the Minister 
 of Foreign Relations of the French Republic. Such 
 a metamorphosis was without parallel; it was r.u 
 avatar. 
 
 How many things had happened since the Festival 
 of the Federation ! On the day after the September 
 massacres Talleyrand had obtained a passport for 
 England, signed by all the ministers, on Danton's 
 motion. From London he continued, it was said, to 
 maintain relations with this terrible leader, which, 
 however, did not prevent his being accused and in- 
 scribed on the list of e'migrds at the end of 1792, on 
 account of the discovery, in the celebrated iron ward- 
 robe, of a letter in which he secretly offered his ser- 
 vices to Louis XVI. In London he was generally 
 regarded as a dangerous person; and early in 1794 
 the Alien Bill was applied to him. He set sail on a
 
 18G CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Danish ship for the United States, and there awaited 
 events. 
 
 After Robespierre's death he tried hard to get 
 leave to return to France. His former vicar-general 
 and acolyte at the mass of the Federation, Desre- 
 naudes, solicited the favor of persons of influence. 
 As M. Frederic Masson has said in his remarkable 
 book, The Department of Foreign Affairs during the 
 Revolution, the exile reminded his former mistresses 
 of his good fortunes ; Danton's friends, of his relations 
 with their chief; the stock-jobbers of old times, of 
 the speculations which had made him their master. 
 Legendre was for him, and Madame de Stael, and 
 Boissy d'Anglas. Madame de la Bouchardie sang to 
 Chillier the Exile's Romanza, and Che'nier decided 
 to support, before the Convention in the meeting of 
 September 4, 1795, the petition which Talleyrand 
 had sent from Philadelphia, soliciting permission to 
 return to France. The Convention granted his re- 
 quest. He received a warm welcome in Paris on his 
 return. Ladies who had formerly been leaders of 
 fashion remembered his wit and his fine manners ; 
 their successors took him up out of curiosity. He 
 became acquainted with one of the influential people 
 of the day, Madame de Stael, who wanted him to be 
 made a minister; but this, Carnot flatly opposed. 
 "Don't let me hear a word about him," said the 
 former member of the Committee of Public Safety. 
 " He has sold his order, his king, his God. This 
 Catelan of a priest will sell the whole Directory."
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT. 187 
 
 But Madame de Stael had more influence than Car- 
 not: and the ex-Bishop of Autun was appointed 
 Minister of Foreign Relations in July, 1797. His first 
 thought, for he had the gift of foresight, was to 
 secure the good graces of the man of the future, of 
 the commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy. He 
 wrote to him : " I have the honor of informing you, 
 General, that the Executive Directory has just ap- 
 pointed me Minister of Foreign Relations. Naturally 
 awed by the functions of which I feel the perilous 
 importance, I need to reassure myself by reflect- 
 ing what means and aids your glory brings to our 
 negotiations. The mere name of Bonaparte is an 
 ally able to remove every difficulty. I shall hasten 
 to send to you all the views which the Directory 
 shall charge me to transmit to you ; and Fame, your 
 ordinary means of communication, will often deprive 
 me of the happiness of informing it of the manner in 
 which you shall have carried them out." 
 
 When Bonaparte returned to Paris, Talleyrand was 
 anxious to overreach him, to get possession of him, 
 and determined to give a great entertainment in his 
 honor, but he waited until Josephine should come. 
 The former Viscountess of Beauharnais would well 
 suit a place where met those of the old nobility who 
 had come over more or less to the Revolution. Ma- 
 dame Bonaparte had a weakness for luxury, dress, 
 and pleasure ; in the drawing-room of the Minister 
 of Foreign Relations she would feel herself in her 
 element. Her grace and amiability would work
 
 188 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 wonders; she would modify the effect of her hus- 
 band's rough, violent manners. She would recognize 
 with emotion old friends who would hope to obtain 
 honors and money through her influence. How de- 
 lighted she would be to see arising again what she 
 had thought forever lost, the elegance, urbanity, the 
 life of the drawing-room ! Josephine reached Paris 
 from Italy January 2, 1798. The ball of the Min- 
 ister of Foreign Relations was set for the day fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 First a word about the ball-room. The ministry 
 was a mansion of the Faubourg Saint Germain, the 
 H6tel Gallifet, a rich and costly dwelling, still un- 
 finished in 1786, so that its former owners had had 
 scarcely time to get settled in it. It was in the rue 
 du Bac, at the corner of the rue de Grenelle, between 
 a courtyard and a garden ; the mansion on the side 
 of the court being adorned by a great open peristyle, 
 consisting of Ionic columns thirty feet high. To 
 the left another peristyle with Doric columns forms 
 a covered passage leading to the grand staircase. 
 The fa9ade towards the garden is adorned with Ionic 
 columns; to the left is a gallery ninety feet long. 
 Talleyrand prepared everything with a lavish hand. 
 It was a magnificent ball: the grand staircase was 
 covered with sweet-smelling plants, the musicians 
 were placed in the cupola, decorated with arabesques, 
 at the top of the staircase. All the walls of the 
 drawing-rooms were painted over anew. A little 
 Etruscan temple was built, in which was set the bust
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT. 189 
 
 of Brutus, a present from General Bonaparte, In 
 the garden, which was illuminated by Bengal lights, 
 were tents in which were soldiers from all the differ- 
 ent corps of the Paris garrison. At length the ball 
 began. The Minister did the honors with perfect 
 grace : he had altered his political opinions, but not 
 his manners. He was a Republican whose ways con- 
 tinued those of the Monarchy. He loved show and 
 splendor, and had the cold politeness, the repose of 
 good society, the indifference tinctured with malice, 
 the exquisite tact, the delicate perceptions, which 
 marked the men of the old regime. He brought into 
 a new world the manners of the (Eil de Bceuf and 
 of the court of Versailles. This entertainment given 
 by a former bishop, in an aristocratic dwelling, which 
 had been made national property and turned into a 
 ministry, was a sign of the times. For many years 
 no show, pomp, and splendor had been seen. No one 
 would imagine himself in the city of revolutionary 
 dances, of red caps, of the scaffold. Perfumes took 
 the place of the smell of blood, and the sufferings and 
 perils of the past seemed but a bad dream. The 
 pretty women, the flowers, the lights, one would 
 have thought the happy days of Marie Antoinette 
 had returned. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was much impressed. She was 
 looked at a great deal, but her husband produced 
 infinitely more effect. The presence of the hero of 
 Arcole, the signer of the peace of Campo Formio, 
 was the great attraction of the evening. His un-
 
 190 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 usual, strongly marked face, his Roman profile, his 
 eagle eye, aroused much more admiration than did 
 any of the fashionable beauties. A glance, a word, 
 the slightest token of attention on his part, was 
 regarded as a great favor. 
 
 As he entered the ball-room he said to the poet 
 Arnault : " Give me your arm ; I see a great many 
 who are ready to charge on me ; so long as we are 
 together, they won't dare to break in on our talk. Let 
 us walk about the hall ; you will tell me who all the 
 masks are, for you know everybody." There was a 
 young girl approaching with her mother, matre pul- 
 chra, filia pulchrior, both dressed alike, in a dress of 
 white crape, trimmed with two broad satin ribbons, 
 and the edge bordered with a puff of the size of a 
 thumb, in pink gauze worked with silver. Each wore 
 a wreath of oak-leaves. The mother wore diamonds ; 
 the daughter, pearls : that was the only difference in 
 their attire. The mother was Madame de Permont ; 
 the daughter, the future Duchess of Abrantes. The 
 Turkish Ambassador, a favorite with all the ladies, 
 to whom all the theatre proprietors had given nu- 
 merous entertainments to make money and escape 
 failure, the Turk whose popularity had waned before 
 that of the conqueror of Italy, was most enthusiastic 
 over the beauty of Madame de Permont, who was 
 a Comnena. "I told him," murmured Bonaparte, 
 " that you were a Greek." 
 
 Arnault, when the general had left his arm, sat 
 down on a bench between two windows. Scarcely
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT. 191 
 
 had he taken his place when Madame de Stael sat 
 down beside him. " It's impossible to approach your 
 General," she said ; " you must present me to him." 
 She grasped the poet and led him straight to Bona- 
 parte through the crowd that drew back, or rather, 
 that she pushed back. " Madame de Stael," said 
 Arnault to the general, "declares that she needs 
 some other introduction to you than her name, and 
 asks me to present her to you. Allow me, General, 
 to obey her." The crowd gathered about and 
 listened with great attention. Madame de Stael first 
 overwhelmed the hero with compliments, and after 
 giving him clearly to understand that he was in her 
 eyes the first of men, she asked him, " General, what 
 woman do you love best?" "My wife," he answered. 
 " That is very natural ; but whom do you esteem the 
 most?" "The one who is the best housekeeper." 
 "I can understand that. But who do you think is 
 the first of women ? " " The one who has most chil- 
 dren, Madame." The company burst out laughing ; 
 and Madame de Stael, much discomfited, said very 
 low to Arnault, "Your great man is a very odd man." 
 At midnight the orchestra played the Parting 
 Song, and all the women made their way to the 
 gallery and sat down at a table with three hun- 
 dred places. Talleyrand proposed toasts, each one 
 being followed by couplets composed by Desprds and 
 Despre*aux, sung by Lays, Chenard, and Che'ron. 
 Between the songs, Dugazon told a comic story about 
 a German baron, a sort of entertainment much ad- 
 mired at that time.
 
 192 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 After the supper the ball went on again. Bona- 
 parte took leave at one in the morning. Throughout 
 the supper he kept close to his wife, paying atten- 
 tion to her alone. According to Girardin he was not 
 orry to have it said that he was much in love with 
 her and excessively jealous. 
 
 The ball cost 12,730 francs, without counting the 
 singers, the supper, and the police. It was a large 
 sum for a ball, but it was money well spent. From 
 this investment the ex-Bishop of Autun was to draw 
 large profits. The entertainment of the Minister of 
 Foreign Relations had been a union of the old and 
 new society, a gracious and brilliant symbol of con- 
 ciliation and fusion. Members of the Convention, 
 regicides, Jacobins, had appeared there side by side 
 with the great lords and ladies of other days. That 
 is why it so pleased Bonaparte, who recalled it at 
 Saint Helena, and said, "Minister Talleyrand's ball 
 bore the stamp of good taste." It was indeed a 
 political and social event, a real restoration ; a resto- 
 ration of the manners and elegance of the old re*- 
 gime ; the beginning of a new court. From beneath 
 the democratic mask of Citizen Talleyrand was al- 
 ready peering the face of the Lord High Chamber- 
 lain; and Bonaparte, knowing that under every form 
 of government the French would love luxury and 
 show, festivities and pleasure, honors and decorations, 
 was doubtless already dreaming of the future splen- 
 dors of the Tuileries.
 
 XX. 
 
 BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE BEFORE THE EXPE- 
 DITION TO EGYPT. 
 
 BONAPARTE appeared at the height of glory, 
 and yet he was not contented. In vain the 
 nlultitude worshipped him with something like idol- 
 atry : nothing could satiate his ambition. The Moni- 
 teur was filled with praise of him in prose and verse. 
 There was this distich by Lebrun, surnamed the 
 French Pindar : 
 
 " Hero, dear to Peace, the Arts, and Victory, 
 In two years he wins a thousand centuries of glory 1 " 
 
 and this impromptu of an old man, Citizen Palissot, 
 who in his own fashion thus reproduced the denun- 
 ciation of Simeon : 
 
 " Over tyrants armed against us 
 I have seen my country triumph. 
 I have seen the hero of Italy 
 He chained to his knees 
 With a triple knot of brass Discord and Envy. 
 
 " Fate, I scorn thy shears ; 
 After so glorious a sight 
 What does life still offer me ? " 
 
 193
 
 194 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 No sovereign in his own capital has ever produced 
 a greater impression than the hero of Arcole. His 
 modest dwelling in the rue Chantereine was more 
 famous than mighty palaces. One evening when he 
 was going home he was surprised by finding work- 
 men changing the sign bearing the name of the 
 street, which henceforth was called rue de la Vic- 
 toire. At the theatre it was in vain that he hid 
 himself at the back of the box ; he was, in spite of 
 himself, the object of enthusiastic demonstrations. 
 One morning he sent his secretary, Bourrienne, to a 
 theatre manager to ask him to give that evening two 
 very popular pieces, if such a thing were possible. 
 The manager replied, " Nothing is impossible for 
 General Bonaparte ; he has struck that word out of 
 the dictionary." 
 
 When he was elected a member of the Institute, 
 December 26, 1797, he produced perhaps a greater 
 effect in his coat embroidered with green palm-leaves 
 than in his general's uniform. The day of his 
 reception at the palace of the Louvre, where the 
 meetings of the Institute were held at that time, the 
 public had eyes only for this wonderful young man. 
 Che'nier happened to read that day a poem in com- 
 memoration of Hoche ; but the hero of the occasion 
 was not Hoche, but Bonaparte, and the passage 
 which provoked the heartiest applause was one in 
 which the poet spoke of a projected invasion of 
 England. The whole company burst into cheers, 
 and that evening Bonaparte received, among other
 
 BEFORE THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 195 
 
 visits, that of Madame Tallien, who came to congrat- 
 ulate him on his new triumph. Josephine greatly 
 enjoyed her husband's glory, and nothing troubled 
 her happiness. Her son Eugene had returned from 
 Italy ; her daughter Hortense, who was a pupil in 
 Madame Campah's boarding-school at Saint Germain, 
 seemed to share her brother's amiable and brilliant 
 qualities. In the month of March, 1798, this charm- 
 ing girl, whom Bonaparte loved as his own child, 
 acted before him, at her school, in Esther, recalling 
 thus the performances at Saint Cyr under Louis 
 XIV. 
 
 Josephine had never been happier ; her brothers-in- 
 law, in spite of their dislike of her, had not been able 
 to make any trouble between her and her husband, 
 who then had neither time nor cause for jealousy. 
 She was very fond of society, and liked to see her 
 little house in the rue de la Victoire crowded with 
 all the principal people of Paris. She used to give 
 literary dinners there, when her husband's sparkling, 
 profound, and original conversation amazed such 
 students as Monge, Berthollet, Laplace ; such writers 
 as Ducis, Legouve", Lemercier, Bernardin de Saint- 
 Pierre ; such artists as David and Mdhul. 
 
 The Moniteur was untiring in its praise of the 
 universal genius of this young general, who called 
 forth the admiration of his colleagues of the Insti- 
 tute, who talked of mathematics with Lagrange ; of 
 poetry, with Chdnier ; of law, with Daunou ; and of 
 all, well. But Josephine's love, the circle of cour-
 
 196 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 tiers who surrounded him, his universal success, the 
 perpetual gratifications of his pride which fortune 
 showered upon him, were all incapable of satisfying 
 his ardent, restless spirit, which imperatively de- 
 manded great emotions, great risks, great dangers. 
 Restless, and yearning for action, he uneasily waited 
 for the moment to come when the public should 
 grow tired of his glory as of everything else. " No 
 one remembers anything at Paris," he said to Bour- 
 rienne. " If I stay long without doing anything, I 
 am lost. One fame succeeds another in this great 
 Babylon ; no one will look at me if I go three times 
 to the theatre, so I go very seldom." The adminis- 
 tration of the Opera offered him a special perform- 
 ance, but he declined it. When Bourrienne sug- 
 gested that it would be a pleasant thing for him to 
 receive the applause of his fellow-citizens, " Bah ! " 
 he replied, " the people would crowd about me just 
 as eagerly if I were going to the scaffold." " This 
 Paris weighs on me," he said on another occasion, 
 " like a coat of lead." In this city which swallows 
 so many reputations, and where everything so soon 
 grows old, he remembered Caesar, who would have 
 preferred being first in a village to being second in 
 Rome. Doubtless there was in all France no name 
 so famous as his, but officially, the Directors were 
 above him ; they were, in fact, the heads of the gov- 
 ernment of which he was but a subordinate. By a 
 simple official communication they could have de- 
 prived him of his command. The Duke of Ragusa
 
 BEFORE THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 197 
 
 has justly remarked: "If Bonaparte, who was des- 
 tined to have an easy success the 18th Brumaire, 
 had, early in 1798, made the slightest attempt against 
 the Directory, nine-tenths of the citizens would have 
 turned their back upon him." Madame de Stael tells 
 the story that one evening he was talking to Barras 
 of his ascendancy over the Italians, who wanted to 
 make him Duke of Milan and King of Italy. " But," 
 he added, " I contemplate nothing of the sort in any 
 country." " You do well not to think of such a 
 thing in France," replied Barras ; " for if the Direc- 
 tory were to send you to the Temple to-morrow, there 
 would not be four persons to object to it." 
 
 Bonaparte felt in his heart that Barras spoke the 
 truth. A capital like Paris seemed to him odious 
 unless he were its master. To have to depend on the 
 Directors, the Councils, the ministers, the newspapers, 
 was an intolerable weariness. For two years he had 
 been without superior control ; he had acted like an 
 absolute monarch, and he felt out of his element in a 
 city where the reins of government were not in his 
 hands. At the end of January, 1798, he said : " Bour- 
 rienne, I don't want to stay here ; there is nothing to 
 do. They won't listen to anything. I see very well 
 that if I stay, it will be all up with me very soon. 
 Everything wears out here ; my glory is all gone ; 
 this little Europe can't supply any. I must go to the 
 East; that's where all great reputations are made. 
 But first I want to visit the ports, to see for myself 
 what can be undertaken. I will take you, and
 
 198 CITIZEN ESS BON APART/:. 
 
 Lannes, and Sulkowski. If, as I fear, an invasion 
 of England seems doubtful, the Army of England 
 will become the Army of the East, and I shall go 
 to Egypt." 
 
 Bonaparte's visit to the northern ports, which he 
 began February 10, 1798, was of only a week's dura- 
 tion. He returned to Paris through Antwerp, Brus- 
 sels, Lille, and Saint Quentin. " Well, General," 
 asked Bourrienne, "what's the result of your trip? 
 Are you satisfied ? For my part, I must confess that 
 I didn't find any great resources or grand hopes in 
 what I saw and heard." Bonaparte replied : " The 
 risk is too great ; I sha'n't venture it. I don't want 
 to trifle with the fate of France." 
 
 From that moment the expedition to Egypt was 
 determined. The year before, at Passeriano, Bona- 
 parte had said : " Europe is a mole-hill ; you find 
 great empires and great revolutions only in the East, 
 where there are six hundred millions of men." To 
 grow greater by remoteness ; to win triumphs in the 
 land of light, of the country of the founders of relig- 
 ions and of empires ; to use the Pyramids as the pedes- 
 tals of his glory ; to attain strange, colossal, fabulous 
 results ; to make the Mediterranean a French lake ; 
 to traverse Africa and Asia ; to wrest East India from 
 England, such were the vast dreams of this man 
 who, with more reason than Fouquet, for Fouquet 
 had only money, and he had glory, was tempted to 
 exclaim, in a moment of rapture : " Quo non ascertr 
 dam ? " " Whither shall I not rise ? "
 
 BEFORE THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 199 
 
 The aim of the expedition he proposed to under- 
 take was unknown, yet every one wanted to accom- 
 pany him. No one knew where he was going, but he 
 was followed blindly, for faith was felt in his star. 
 Strangely enough, Bonaparte did not give any indica- 
 tions, even to his principal generals, of the point of 
 destination. The Moniteur, in its issue of March 31, 
 having had the imprudence to mention Egypt, the 
 Directory nullified the effect of the blunder by pub- 
 lishing an order commanding General Bonaparte to 
 go to Brest to take command of the Army of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Military men were not alone in asking to take part 
 in this expedition : civilians, scholars, engineers, art- 
 ists, also wished to go along. Bonaparte always re- 
 gretted that he had not been able to take with him 
 Ducis, the poet, Me"hul, the composer, and Lays, the 
 singer. But Ducis was too old to endure the hard- 
 ships of a campaign, Me"hul was bound to the Con- 
 servatory, and Lays to the Opera. " I am sorry that 
 he won't go with us," said the general to Arnault, 
 speaking of this singer; "he would have been our 
 Ossian. We need one ; we need a bard, who might, 
 when the occasion arose, sing at the head of our col- 
 umns. His voice would have had such a good effect 
 on the soldiers. No one would suit me better than 
 he." Bonaparte wished to transfer the civilization of 
 Paris to the shores of the Nile. From the savants he 
 chose Monge, Berthollet, Denon, Dolomieu ; from the 
 authors, Arnault and Parceval ; from the artists, Rigel,
 
 200 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the pianist, and Villeteau, the singer, who took Lays's 
 parts at the Opera. 
 
 Bourrienne, who was in the secret of the expedi- 
 tion, asked the general how long he meant to stay in 
 Egypt. "A little while, or six years," answered 
 Bonaparte ; " everything depends on circumstances. 
 I shall colonize the country; bring over artists, all 
 sorts of workmen, women, and actors. We are only 
 twenty-nine ; we shall be thirty-five : that's not old ; 
 these six years will see me, if all goes well, in India. 
 Tell every one who speaks of our departure, that you 
 are going to Brest. Say the same thing to your 
 family." 
 
 Bonaparte was eager for action. He missed the 
 smell of powder. All the time he was in Paris, 
 between the Italian campaign and the Egyptian ex- 
 pedition, he continually wore his spurs, although he 
 did not wear his uniform. Night and day, he kept 
 a horse in his stable, saddled and bridled. 
 
 One moment, the Egyptian plan was nearly aban- 
 doned, because war with Austria seemed imminent ; 
 but the complications soon vanished, and the prepara- 
 tions were resumed with vigor. There were many 
 who regretted Bonaparte's departure, and said that 
 his real place was in France. " The Directory wishes 
 to get you away," the poet Arnault told him ; " France 
 wishes to keep you. The Parisians blame your 
 resignation; they are crying out more bitterly than 
 ever against the government. Aren't you afraid 
 they will at last cry out after you ? " " The Parisians
 
 BEFORE THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 201 
 
 cry, but they will never do anything ; they are dis- 
 contented, but they are not unhappy. If I got on 
 horseback, no one would follow me ; the time hasn't 
 come. We shall leave to-morrow."
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE FAREWELL AT TOULON. 
 
 MAY 3, 1798, Bonaparte and Josephine, after 
 dining quietly with Barras at the Luxem- 
 bourg, went to the Theatre FranQais, where Talma 
 was acting in the Macbeth of Ducis. He was received 
 as warmly as on the first days of his return. When 
 the play was over, he went home, and started at 
 midnight, taking with him, in his carriage, Eugene, 
 Bourrienne, Duroc, and Lavalette. Paris knew noth- 
 ing of his departure ; and the next morning, when 
 every one thought that he was in the rue de la 
 Victoire, he was already well on his way to the 
 South. With the desire of outwitting the English 
 spies, who were still in ignorance of the destination 
 of the expedition, he had made all his preparations 
 quietly, and had not even let Josephine go to Saint 
 Germain to bid farewell to her daughter, before 
 leaving. Yet Josephine still did not know how long 
 she would be away, and Bonaparte had not told her 
 whether he should allow her to accompany him on 
 this mysterious expedition on which he was about to 
 start. 
 
 202
 
 THE FAllEWELL AT TOULON. 203 
 
 In his Memoirs, Marmont records an incident that 
 came near having serious results for the party. At 
 nightfall they had reached Aix-en-Provence, on their 
 hurried journey to Toulon. Being eager to push on, 
 without stopping at Marseilles, where they would 
 in all probability have been delayed, they took a 
 more direct road, through Roquevaire, a highway, 
 but one less frequently taken than the other: for 
 some days the postillions had not been that way. 
 Suddenly, as they were rapidly going down the slope 
 of a hill, the carriage was stopped by a violent shock. 
 Every one sprang up, and got out of the carriage to 
 see what was the matter. They found that a large 
 branch of a tree stretching across the road had 
 stopped the carriage. Ten steps further, at the foot 
 of the descent, a bridge crossing a torrent over which 
 they had to go had fallen down the previous evening. 
 No one knew anything about it ; and the carriage 
 would have gone over the precipice, had not this 
 branch stopped them at the edge. " Does not this 
 seem like the hand of Providence ? " asks Marmont. 
 " Is not Bonaparte justified in thinking that it 
 watches over him ? Had it not been for this branch, 
 so strangely placed, and strong enough to hold, what 
 would have become of the conqueror of Egypt, the 
 conqueror of Europe, whose power for fifteen years 
 prevailed over the surface of the earth ? " 
 
 On what trifles human destinies depend ! In the 
 eyes of Providence, men are but pygmies. If that 
 branch had been a trifle thinner, it would have been
 
 204 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 all over with Napoleon : no battle of the Pyramids, 
 no 18th Brumaire, no Consulate, no Empire, no cor- 
 onation, no Austerlitz, no Waterloo ! Were the 
 ancients right when they said that those whom the 
 gods love die young ? And would it have been well 
 for Napoleon to die at twenty-nine, before his great- 
 est glories, but also before his misfortunes ? Do not 
 the men who are called indispensable live too long 
 for themselves and for their country? Short as is 
 human life, it is too long for them. 
 
 But in 1798 Bonaparte was far from making such 
 reflections. When he reached Toulon, May 9, he 
 was all pride, enthusiasm, hope. In Paris, he was 
 smothering ; at Toulon, he drew a full breath. In 
 Paris, in the neighborhood of the Directors, he feared 
 to seem to be their subordinate ; and in his relations 
 with them he assumed alternately an air of dignity 
 and one of familiarity ; but, as Madame de Stael said, 
 " he failed in both. He is a man who is natural only 
 when in command." At Toulon, he felt himself the 
 master. He meant, to quote Madame de Stael again, 
 " to become a poetic person, instead of remaining ex- 
 posed to the gossip of Jacobins, which in this popular 
 form is no less ingenious than that of courts." For 
 all its animation and brilliancy, Paris had seemed 
 a tomb, and he was glad to have lifted its heavy lid. 
 In the presence of his army he felt himself a new 
 man. The cheers of the soldiers and sailors, the clash 
 of arms, the murmur of the waves, the voice of the 
 trumpets, the roar of the drums, inspired him. He
 
 THE FAREWELL AT TOULON. 205 
 
 saw only the brilliant side of war. No one knew 
 whither he was going: to what coast his fleet was 
 bound whether to Portugal or to England ; to the 
 Crimea or to Egypt. Did he mean to conquer the land 
 of the Pharaohs ? To pierce the Isthmus of Suez ? 
 To capture Jerusalem like Godfrey of Bouillon, and 
 to penetrate into India, like Alexander? Those 
 mysteries fired the imagination of the masses. The 
 great interest in the expedition was due to ignorance 
 of its destination. The same uncertainty prevailed 
 over Europe, Africa, and Asia. England was anx- 
 iously wondering where the thunderbolt would fall. 
 
 The more perilous the adventure, the greater its 
 charm for Bonaparte. He was like those riders who 
 care only for a festive horse. It was a keen joy to 
 him to stake everything and defy fortune. Through- 
 out his career we find this love of the extraordinary, 
 of the unknown, this desire to cope with obstacles 
 generally thought insuperable. He always pursued 
 victory as a hunter pursues his prey, as the gambler 
 tries to win, with a devouring passion. When he 
 was about to leave his wife and country, any feeling 
 of regret would have seemed to him unworthy of a 
 man ; a tear he would have thought a weakness. 
 What he really loved, was no longer Josephine, but 
 glory. 
 
 A few months before, he would perhaps have taken 
 his wife with him to the wars ; but now the lover has 
 given place to the hero. He was to write to her no 
 more love-letters such as he wrote from Italy. It was
 
 206 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 no longer Jean Jacques Rousseau who interested 
 him ; but Plutarch, the Bible, the Koran. As soon 
 as they reached Toulon, he told Josephine that he 
 could not take her to Egypt, since he was unwilling 
 to expose her to the fatigues and dangers of the 
 voyage, the climate, and the expedition. Josephine 
 said that all these things had no terrors for a woman 
 like her ; that in three voyages she had already sailed 
 more than five thousand leagues ; that she was a 
 Creole and the heat of the East could do her no harm. 
 Bonaparte, to console her, promised that she should 
 follow within two months, when he should be settled 
 in Egypt; and that he would send to fetch her the 
 frigate Pomone, which had brought her to France 
 the first time. So Josephine wrote to her daughter, 
 May 15 : " My dear Hortense, I have been for five 
 days at Toulon ; I was not tired by the journey, but 
 was very sorry to have left you so suddenly without 
 being able to say good by to you and to my dear 
 Caroline. But I am somewhat consoled by the hope 
 of seeing you again very soon. Bonaparte does not 
 wish me to sail with him, but wants me to go to 
 some watering-place before undertaking the voyage to 
 Italy. He will send for me in two months. So, dear 
 Hortense, I shall soon have the pleasure of pressing 
 you to my heart, and of telling you how much I love 
 you. Good by, my dear girl." 
 
 Bonaparte knew from the movements of the Eng- 
 lish that he had better be off without delay, but con- 
 trary winds kept him detained for ten days at Toulon.
 
 THE FAREWELL AT TOULON. 207 
 
 He spent this time in addressing the army, completing 
 the loading, and organizing a system of tactics. Five 
 hundred sail were about to set forth on the Mediter- 
 ranean. The fleet, which was supplied with water for 
 a month, and with food for two months, carried about 
 forty thousand men of all sorts, and ten thousand 
 sailors. Five hundred grenadiers, accustomed to ar- 
 tillery, were placed on each three-decker, with orders, 
 in case the English fleet was sighted, to bear down 
 on it, and range alongside in order. Never had so 
 vast a naval expedition been seen. Soldiers and sail- 
 ors were full of confidence. Yet cooler heads, not 
 carried away by warlike ardor and by the twofold 
 fervor of youth and courage, were well aware of the 
 great dangers which rendered the success of the expe- 
 dition improbable, if not impossible. 
 
 Arnault, who sailed with the army, said that if the 
 fleet had met the enemy on the voyage, it would have 
 been lost, not because the flower of the Army of Italy 
 was not present in sufficiently large numbers, but for 
 the very opposite reason. Since they were distributed 
 about in ships with their full quota of men already on 
 board, the soldiers tripled on each ship the number of 
 men necessary for its defence ; and in such case every- 
 thing superfluous is a positive disadvantage. If a fight 
 had taken place, their movements would have been 
 confused, the handling of the ships encumbered, and 
 cannon-balls of the enemy would necessarily have 
 found three men where, in ordinary circumstances, it 
 would have found one or no one at all. Arnault
 
 208 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 also mentions the inconvenience produced by the ar- 
 tillery and its material : the shrouds were obstructed, 
 the decks littered by it. " In case of attack, all would 
 have had to be thrown into the sea, and we should 
 have begun by sacrificing to defence the means of 
 conquest. Even a victory would have ruined the 
 expedition. We prayed Heaven that the generalis- 
 simo would not find himself compelled to win one ! " 
 
 Marmont says the same thing, and that he would 
 not undertake to justify an expedition made in the 
 face of so many adverse chances. He adds that the 
 ships were insufficiently equipped, the crew short- 
 handed and ignorant, the men-of-war encumbered 
 with troops and the artillery material which pre- 
 vented proper handling ; that this vast fleet, composed 
 of sloops and vessels of every sort, would have been 
 of necessity scattered, and even destroyed, by meeting 
 any squadron ; that it was impossible to count upon 
 a victory, and even then a victory would not have 
 saved the convoy. " For the expedition to succeed," 
 Marmont goes on, "there was required a smooth 
 voyage, and no sight of the enemy ; but how expect 
 such good luck in view of the enforced slowness of 
 our progress, and of the pause we were to make before 
 Malta ? All the probabilities were then against us ; 
 we had not one chance in a hundred; we were sailing 
 with a light heart to almost certain ruin. It must be 
 acknowledged that we were playing a costly game, 
 which even success would scarcely warrant." 
 
 Yet Bonaparte could not admit that Fortune would
 
 TUE FAREWELL AT TOULON. 209 
 
 be unkind to him. He had won so many favors from 
 her that he deemed her his slave. He feared storms 
 no more than he feared Nelson's ships. In his eyes 
 obstacles were idle dreams. Returning, as well as 
 going, he never thought of fearing the English 
 cruisers. He said to himself, What can there be to 
 fear for the ship that carries me and my fortune ? 
 But he was not alone in this faith in his destiny ; he 
 succeeded in communicating it to his companions. 
 He believed in himself, and they believed in him. 
 He had, in fact, reached one of those moments when 
 great men sincerely imagine themselves above human 
 nature, and look upon themselves as demi-gods. 
 
 May 19, the day of the departure, Nelson, the 
 English admiral, was guarding the port. A violent 
 squall, which damaged only one of the French 
 frigates, drove the English fleet into the offing, and 
 damaged it so severely that Nelson was obliged to 
 withdraw for repairs, and he could not resume his 
 station before. Toulon till June 1, twelve days after 
 the French fleet had sailed. The farewell of Bona- 
 parte and Josephine was most touching. " All who 
 have known Madame Bonaparte," says Bourrienne, 
 " know that there have been few women so amiable. 
 Her husband loved her passionately. He had carried 
 her with him to Toulon, to see her until the last 
 moment; could he know when he parted from her 
 when he should see her again, even whether he should 
 ever see her?" 
 
 The hour of departure had come. Bonaparte's
 
 210 CTTIZKXKSS 
 
 proclamation had found the hearts of all his men. 
 "Soldiers, 3-011 have fought on mountain, plains, in 
 sieges ; there remains war at sea for you. The Ro- 
 man legions, whom you have sometimes imitated, 
 but not yet equalled, fought Carthage both on this 
 sea and on the plains of Zama. Victory never de- 
 serted them, because they were brave, patient to 
 endure fatigue, disciplined and united. The Genius 
 of Liberty, which, since its birth, has made France 
 the arbiter of Europe, demands that she become that 
 of the seas and of the remotest nations." The fleet 
 awaited the signal ; the cannon of the ships replied 
 to those of the forts. A vast multitude covering the 
 heights above the port gazed with patriotic emotion 
 on the imposing spectacle, which was lit by a bril- 
 liant sun. Josephine was on a balcony of the In- 
 tendant's house, trying to make out her husband, 
 who was already embarked, through a spyglass. 
 What was to become of the French fleet? Would it 
 be able to get supplies at Malta? Would the im- 
 pregnable fortress open its doors ? Would he get to 
 Egypt ? Would they be able to land ? Would they 
 have to fight, not merely against the Mamelukes, but 
 also against the numberless hordes of Turkey? What 
 did it matter? Bonaparte believed himself master of 
 fortune. Josephine was at once alarmed and proud, 
 alarmed at seeing her husband brave the equally 
 fickle waves of the sea and of destiny ; and proud of 
 the cheers that saluted the departing hero. At a signal 
 from the admiral's flagship, the sails were bent, the
 
 THE FAREWELL AT TOULON. 211 
 
 ships started, with a strong breeze from the north- 
 west. But it was not without difficulty that the 
 fleet got out of the roadstead. Many ships drag 
 their anchors and are helpless. The Orient, carrying 
 one hundred and twenty guns, on board of which 
 was Bonaparte, careened so much as to cause great 
 anxieties among the spectators upon the shore. Jose- 
 phine trembled, but soon she was reassured ; the ves- 
 sel righted, and while the cheers of the multitude 
 mingled with the music of the departing bands and 
 the roar of the guns from the fleet and the forts, it 
 sailed forth majestically upon the open sea.
 
 XXII. 
 
 PAEIS DURING THE YEAR 
 
 "FUST as in the most irascible natures a calm 
 fJ always follows violent wrath, so a city, however 
 fiery its passions, cannot always remain in a paroxysm 
 of energy or hate. After terrible popular crises there 
 comes a lassitude which often ends in indifference or 
 scepticism. A revolutionary song, the Marseillaise, 
 for instance, at one moment arouses every one, and 
 sounds like a sublime hymn ; at another, like an old- 
 fashioned, worn-out chorus. Orators who a few 
 months ago moved the masses suddenly resemble 
 old actors who cannot draw. Of all cities in the 
 world, Paris is perhaps the ficklest in its tastes and 
 passions. During the Year VII. Paris was weary 
 of everything except pleasures and military glory. 
 Politics, literature, newspapers, parliamentary de- 
 bates, had but little interest for a populace which 
 for nearly ten years had seen such varied sights and 
 endured such intense emotions. 
 
 As The'ophile Lavalle"e has said : " Every one 
 laughed at the Republic, not merely at its festivals 
 and absurd dresses, but at its wisest institutions, at 
 212
 
 PARIS DURING THE TEAR VII. 213 
 
 its purest men." A goddess of Reason would not 
 have been able to walk through the streets without 
 exciting the jests of the crowd. Patriotic processions 
 began to be looked upon as masquerades. The club 
 orators were regarded as tedious preachers. The 
 vast majority of Parisians cared no more for the 
 Jacobins than for the Emigre's, and listened no more 
 to the denunciations of the one party than to the 
 lamentations of the other. There was no room for 
 the Republican legend or for the Royalist. What 
 ruled Paris was not an idea, but selfishness, the love 
 of material joys, scornful indifference for every form 
 of rule except that of the sword. Only a few sin- 
 cere, honest Republicans, like the upright G older, re- 
 mained true to their principles and determined stren- 
 uously to resist every attempt to found a dictatorship ; 
 but abandoned by public opinion, which, after having 
 had liberty for its ideal, had got a new idol, and 
 bowed down before force, these men, whose austerity 
 no longer suited the manners of the day, found them- 
 selves estranged from all about them. 
 
 The Directory, too much tinctured by Royalism to 
 suit the Republicans, too Republican for the Royal- 
 ists, was no longer taken seriously. It inspired, not 
 wrath, but contempt. The flatterers of Barras paid 
 court to him merely with their lips ; and he for he 
 was very clear-sighted felt that he had come to the 
 end of his tether. The following lines upon this 
 democratic gentleman were passed from hand to 
 hand :
 
 214 CITIZENESS HONAPARTE. 
 
 " More than Nero is my viscount a despot ; 
 Strutting beneath his red cap 
 This king of straw harangues in a tone 
 At which the idler laughs low in his grime ; 
 'Tis Harlequin, Pantaloon, or Jack pudding, 
 Putting on the airs of Agamemnon." 
 
 The festivities of the Luxembourg had lost all their 
 importance, and every one was watching the horizon 
 where the rising sun should appear. 
 
 Paris was not conspicuous for morality. The re- 
 suscitation of the religious feeling, of which the pub- 
 lication of the 6rnie du Christianisme was to be the 
 signal, was yet almost invisible. The worship of the 
 Theophilanthropists, founded by La ReVeill&re Le- 
 paux, one of the Directors, was a mere burlesque. 
 The new religion imposed upon its adherents a very 
 short creed. As the Goricourts have said : " It was 
 a belief of the compactest form. Its temples were 
 distinguished by the inscription : ' Silence and Re- 
 spect ; here God is worshipped.' It recommended 
 virtue by means of handbills. With compilations 
 from Greek and Chinese moralists, Theophilanthropy 
 had pilfered the wisdom of nations to make of it a 
 moral code. It rested on a library instead of on a 
 tabernacle. Its Pater Noster, as proposed by one of 
 the members of the sect, had expunged the phrase, 
 who art in heaven, because God is omnipresent ; also 
 the phrase, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive 
 those who have trespassed against us, because that is 
 equivalent to saying imitate us; and finally the 
 phrase, lead us not into temptation, on the ground that
 
 PARIS DURING THE YEAR VII. 215 
 
 it changes God into a devil. Every one Catholics, 
 Jews, Protestants, Mohammedans could be The- 
 ophilanthropists, preserving whatever they wanted of 
 their religion. The feast days of the new worship 
 were those of the Foundation of the Republic, of the 
 Sovereignty of the People, of Youth, of Married 
 People, of Agriculture, of Liberty, of Old Age. The 
 priests of Theophilanthropy, by means of their prayers 
 for all the acts of the government, secured official 
 favor. The Catholic churches were allotted to them 
 in common with their original possessors, and the 
 same churches were open from six till eleven in the 
 morning for the rites of Catholicism, and after eleven 
 for those of the Theophilanthropists. But the sect 
 of the hunchbacked Director Mahomet, the The- 
 ophilanthropist, La ReVeilleTe-laid-peau, as he was 
 called was to last but four years at the most, and 
 to succumb to ridicule. This grotesque imitation of 
 Christianity could no longer please the impious more 
 than the devout, and wags were going to call this 
 -<Esop in office the pope of the citoyens filoux-en-troupe 
 [gang of sharpers]." 
 
 Certainly it was not from this new sect that a 
 reform in morals could come ; other springs were de- 
 manded for the purification of society. Scandal 
 became the order of the day. From the dregs of 
 society there rose a swarm of upstarts, the product 
 of speculation and immorality, who made a display 
 of their cynical habits, their tasteless luxury, their 
 grotesque conceit. The Republic possessed number-
 
 216 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 less Turcarets. These upstarts tried to outdo the old 
 farmers-general. Royalists and Republicans vied in 
 viciousness and frivolity. Women's fashions became 
 abominably indecent. The parody of antiquity knew 
 no bounds. "By the restoration of Olympus," the 
 Goncourts have said, " the Impossibles of the new 
 France derived so much benefit that they tried grad- 
 ually to introduce nakedness. The robe fell lower 
 upon the bosom, and arms which had been covered 
 to the elbow, being suspected of being ugly arms, 
 were bared to the shoulder. It was with the legs 
 and feet as it was with the arms. Jewelled thongs 
 were fastened about the ankles, 
 
 " ' The diamond alone should set off 
 The charms which wool dishonors,' 
 
 and gold rings were worn on the toes." For some 
 time even the chemise was abandoned as old-fash- 
 ioned. " The chemise," it was said, " mars the figure, 
 and makes awkward folds ; a well-made juste lost its 
 grace and precision by means of the waving and 
 awkward folds of this old garment. . . . Women 
 have worn chemises for nearly two thousand years ; 
 it was an absurdly old fashion." 
 
 Nothing was more fatal to the health than those 
 fashions which required the sun of Greece, and were 
 yet worn by our French Aspasias through the fogs 
 and frost of our winters. Dr. Delessarts said, 
 towards the end of 1798, that he had seen more 
 young girls die since the fashion of gauze dresses
 
 PARIS DURING THE YEAR VII. 217 
 
 came in, than in the forty years before. The extrav- 
 agant fashions were destined to last no longer than 
 the sect of Theophilanthropists. The poet Panard 
 represented Venus, at the last council of Olympus, 
 as opposing these too transparent draperies : 
 
 " The charms that everywhere 
 Without veil are admired to-day, 
 By dint of speaking to the eye, 
 Leave nothing to say to the heart." 
 
 Women have put on their chemises again, and 
 decency resumed its rights. 
 
 Society gradually reorganized itself, but slowly and 
 with difficulty. A few aristocratic drawing-rooms 
 opened, but only to ridicule the new institutions, to 
 sneer at men and things. The official world, in 
 which appeared a few ambitious gentlemen, was 
 crowded with intriguers, speculators, parasites, the 
 flatterers of every form of power. If the drawing- 
 rooms were rare, theatres, subscription balls, public 
 gardens, cafe's, tea-gardens, abounded. The Cafe* 
 Ve'ry, the balls of Richelieu, of Tivoli, of Marbeuf, 
 the Pavilion of Hanover, Frascati, were fashionable, 
 and the motley throng that filled them did not pre- 
 vent good society crowding them for amusement. 
 The families of the victims did not mind meeting 
 the executioners. Why hate one another, after all ? 
 Who knows, the foes of yesterday may be the allies 
 of the morrow! Royalists and Jacobins had a 
 common enemy, the Directory, which had perse-
 
 '218 C777//-;.v y->> I;O\A r.\ i; IK. 
 
 cuted each in turn. Conquerors and conquered, pro- 
 scribers and proscribed, met in the same dance. 
 
 People of the old regime plunged into amusement 
 like the rest, with hearty zeal, but yet with some 
 alarm. Who could pass through the Place de la 
 Revolution without recalling the scaffold? Blood- 
 stains still seemed to mark the stones. And the 
 18th Fructidor, the transportation to Cayenne, the 
 dry guillotine, as it was called, made the blood run 
 cold. However short a Parisian's memory, those 
 events were of too recent a date for him not to dread 
 the future. The survivors of the Jacobins had 
 opened the Club du Manage. It had not the renown 
 of the old clubs, but it was still alarming, and the 
 orators' voices sounded like a funeral knell. The 
 enemies of liberty and friends of the approaching 
 dictatorship never forgot to recall the red spectre 
 against the Republic. Without suspecting it, all 
 parties were preparing to play Bonaparte's game. 
 This man, who bewitched France, was to persuade 
 all, without saying a word, that he was the protector 
 and saviour of every one. Everything was to 
 crumble into ruins; only one man would be left. Of 
 the Republican legend, only the military side sur- 
 vived. Those who were tired of speeches were eager 
 for bulletins of victories. The Parisian public 
 became more interested in the shores of the Nile 
 than in those of the Seine. News from Bonaparte 
 became more interesting, as English cruisers made 
 it even more difficult and rarer. As Madame
 
 PARIS DURING THE YEAR VII. 219 
 
 de Stael said, "letters dated Cairo, orders issued 
 from Alexandria to go to the ruins of Thebes, near 
 the boundaries of Ethiopia, augmented the reputa- 
 tion of a man who was not seen, but who appeared 
 from afar like an extraordinary phenomenon. . . . 
 Bonaparte skilfully utilizing the enthusiasm of the 
 French for military glory, allied their pride with his 
 victories as with his defeats. Gradually he acquired 
 with all people the place the Revolution had held, 
 and gathered about his name all the national feel- 
 ing which had made France great before the world." 
 The period of incubation of the dictatorship is a 
 most interesting study. Paris of the Year VII. ex- 
 plains Paris of the Consulate and of the Empire. 
 The change was made in morals and manners before 
 it appeared in politics. There is something strange 
 in the fluctuation of the Parisian between liberty that 
 is license and order which is despotism. This illogi- 
 cal and fickle populace is in turn the most ungovern- 
 able and the most docile in the world. Everything 
 lies in knowing whether it is in a period of agitation 
 or of repose. When it is agitated, it would break any 
 sword, any sceptre. When it is at peace, it asks its 
 masters only to guard its slumbers.
 
 XXIII. 
 
 JOSEPHINE DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 
 
 WE have just glanced at Paris in the Year VII. 
 Let us now see what place was taken there by 
 Madame Bonaparte, her relatives and friends, and the 
 society of which she formed a part. 
 
 Josephine did not return directly to Paris after her 
 husband sailed from Toulon, but went to Plombieres 
 for the waters, and stayed there three months. She met 
 with an alarming accident there : a wooden balcony 
 on which she was standing with several ladies of her 
 acquaintance, gave way, and she was severely bruised 
 by the fall, so that for some days she was in danger. 
 At Plombieres she received her first tidings from the 
 Egyptian expedition, from the capture of Malta to 
 that of Cairo, and learned from Bonaparte's letters 
 that she must give up all hope of joining him there. 
 Later she heard that the Pomone, the ship in which 
 she meant to sail to Egypt, had returned to France, 
 and had been captured by an English cruiser just as 
 it had left the harbor of Toulon. 
 
 At the end of September, 1798, Josephine returned 
 to Paris and bought the estate of Malmaison, near the 
 
 220
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 221 
 
 village of Rueil. It cost one hundred and sixty thou- 
 sand francs, and she paid for it in part with her 
 dowry, in part with her husband's money. Here she 
 passed the late autumn of 1798 and the summer of 
 1799. The winter she spent in Paris in her little 
 house in the rue de la Victoire. 
 
 Her position at this time was not a wholly happy 
 one. No one knew when her husband would come 
 back from Egypt. He had himself told her when 
 he left that he might be gone five or six years ; and 
 possibly he carried with him some suspicions about 
 his wife which had been carefully strengthened by 
 Joseph and Lucien, who were jealous of their sister- 
 in-law's influence over their brother. Josephine's 
 detractors asserted that she was untrue to her hus- 
 band, but they could give no proof of their insinua- 
 tions. Besides, when there is no public scandal, 
 history has no right to pry into such matters. For 
 all their malevolence, Bonaparte's brothers were un- 
 able to tarnish the reputation of a woman who, far 
 from her husband and son, had no one to defend her. 
 
 Madame de Rdmusat describes, in her Memoirs, a 
 visit which she and her mother, Madame de Ver- 
 gennes, made at Malmaison. " Madame Bonaparte," 
 she says, "was naturally expansive, and even some- 
 what indiscreet; and she had no sooner seen my 
 mother than she confided to her a number of things 
 about her absent husband, her brothers-in-law, in 
 short, about a world of which we knew nothing. 
 Bonaparte was looked upon as lost to France ; his
 
 222 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 wife was neglected. My mother took pity on her; 
 we paid her some attentions, which she never forgot." 
 Does not this language betray some of the scorn which 
 the people of the old regime felt for the new ? 
 
 Legitimist society had no more respect for Bona- 
 parte than for the other prominent persons of the 
 Revolution, and tried to turn to ridicule this family 
 of insignificant Corsican gentry who would have cut 
 such a modest figure at the court of Louis XIV. It 
 found fault with Madame Bonaparte for her relations 
 with Madame Tallien and the set of the Directory. 
 The habitue's of Coblentz did not respect even mili- 
 tary glory, and those who, a few years later, were to 
 throng the Emperor's palace, spoke contemptuously 
 of the Republican general. If the hero of Arcole had 
 fanatical admirers, he had also implacable detractors. 
 When he was leaving for Egypt, these satirical lines 
 were in circulation : 
 
 " What talents are thrown into the water I 
 What fortunes squandered ! 
 How many are hastening to the grave, 
 To carry Bonaparte to the clouds 1 
 This warrior is worth his weight in gold. 
 In France no one doubts this ; 
 But he would be worth still more 
 If he were worth what he costs us." 
 
 Madame Bonaparte, whose main interest lay in the 
 fragments of the Faubourg Saint Germain, suffered 
 much from these pin-pricks. She especially dreaded 
 the beautiful and caustic Madame de Contades,
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 223 
 
 daughter and sister of the MM. de Bouille*, whose 
 name is inseparably connected with the affair of 
 Varennes. "Everything about her was eccentric," 
 says the Duchess of Abrante"s, speaking of this lady, 
 who had recently returned to France. " She was not 
 melancholy, far from it, yet no one would have 
 dared to laugh in the room where she was, unless she 
 had set the example. Her hatred for Bonaparte was 
 most amusing. She would not even acknowledge 
 that he deserved his reputation. ' Come, come,' she 
 used to say when my mother spoke of all his victories 
 in Italy and Egypt; 'I could do as much with a 
 glance.' " 
 
 Let us listen to the Duchess of Abrant^s as she de- 
 scribes a ball at the Thelusson mansion (at the end 
 of the rue Cerutti, now rue Laffitte). " ' Who are 
 those two ladies?' asked Madame de Damas of the 
 old Marquis d'Hautefort, on whose arm she was. 
 ' What ! don't you recognize the Viscountess de Beau- 
 harnais ? That is she with her daughter. She is now 
 Madame Bonaparte. Stop ! Here is a place at her 
 side ; sit down here, and renew your acquaintance.' 
 Madame de Damas's sole reply was to shove the old 
 marquis so hard that she hustled him into one of 
 the little rooms before the large rotunda. ' Are you 
 mad ? ' she asked when they were in the other room. 
 'A nice place, upon my word, next to Madame Bona- 
 parte ! Ernestine would have had to be introduced 
 to her daughter. You are beside yourself, Marquis.' 
 ' Not at all ! Why in the world shouldn't Ernestine
 
 224 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 make her acquaintance, or even become a friend of 
 Mademoiselle Hortense de Beauharnais? She is a 
 charming person, gentle and amiable.' ' What differ- 
 ence does that make to me ? I don't want to have 
 anything to do with such women. I don't like peo- 
 ple who dishonor their misfortunes.' The Marquis 
 d'Hautefort shrugged his shoulders and made no 
 reply." 
 
 Many Royalists could not forgive Bonaparte either 
 the 13th Venddmiaire or his indirect participation in 
 the 18th Fructidor, and blamed Josephine for her 
 friendship with regicides. They thought that these 
 ties on the part of the wife of a guillotined nobleman 
 ill became her birth and antecedents, and that in her 
 new position there was something like apostasy. She 
 consoled herself, however, for the intensity of some 
 of the Legitimists with others who, with more fore- 
 thought, were already paying their court to her in 
 anticipation of the near future. The Marquis of 
 Caulaincourt (the father of the future Duke of 
 Vicenza) saw her very often and gave her wise ad- 
 vice. In the drawing-room of Madame de Permon 
 (mother of the future Duchess of Abrantds) she met 
 all that was left of the former society of the Faubourg 
 Saint Germain, and the brilliant circle of fashionable 
 young men, de Noailles, de Montcalm, de Perigord, 
 de Montron, de Rastignac, de FAigle, de Montaigu, de 
 la Feuillade, de Sainte-Aulaire. Josephine appeared 
 very well in this centre of elegance. The life of Paris 
 suited her to a charm. She liked balls, dinner-par-
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 225 
 
 ties, concerts, the theatre, pleasure-parties. She was 
 a delightful hostess, and presided with great success 
 over a circle of friends and admirers. Her Thursday 
 receptions in the rue de la Victoire were deservedly 
 famous. Among the women she knew intimately 
 were the Countess Fanny de Beauharnais, Madame 
 Caffarelli, the Countess of Houdetot, Madame Andre"- 
 ossy, and the two rival beauties, Madame Tallien 
 and Madame Regnault de Saint-Jean-d'Angely. Al- 
 though indifferently educated, Josephine had a vague 
 notion of literature, and gladly received famous writ- 
 ers and artists. It was at her house, at the time of 
 the Egyptian expedition, that Legouve* read his Merite 
 des Femmes, and that Bailly recited his drama, the 
 AbbS de VEpe. In her drawing-room there used to 
 meet Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, Ducis, Lemercier, 
 Joseph Che"nier, Me"hul, Talma, Volney, Andrieux, 
 Picard, Colin d'Harleville, Baour-Lormian, Alexan- 
 dre Duval. 
 
 With the Bonapartes Josephine exercised diplo- 
 macy. With great tact she concealed her discontent 
 with them, and avoided an open breach with any of 
 the members of this vindictive family, who were all 
 annoyed by her influence over Napoleon. Before he 
 left for Egypt he had desired to see his mother and 
 brothers and sisters comfortably settled in Paris. Al- 
 though younger than Joseph, he already regarded 
 himself as the head of the Bonaparte family, and was 
 determined to assert his authority. In his absence, 
 his mother, Madame Letitia, who was t>orn at Leg-
 
 226 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 horn in 1750, and still preserved traces of marvellous 
 beauty, still held much control over her children. 
 She was a woman of great energy, with an impetuous 
 character and an iron will, firm to the point of ob- 
 stinacy, economical even to avarice for herself, but 
 generous to the poor, and lavish so far as her son 
 Napoleon's glory was concerned; she was kind at 
 heart, though with a cold exterior, but with no breed- 
 .ing. Madame Letitia, who was rather a Roman ma- 
 tron than a modern woman, never forgave Josephine 
 her frivolous ways, her extravagance, her inordi- 
 nate love of dress. She would have preferred for 
 Napoleon a more serious and more economical wife, 
 and deeply regretted a marriage which she thought 
 had not made her son happy. 
 
 Joseph, the oldest child, was an honest man, gentle, 
 sympathetic, well-bred, straightforward ; his man- 
 ners were courteous, his face was attractive. He 
 was born in 1768, and had married, at the end of 
 1794, a rich young woman of Marseilles, Mademoi- 
 selle Marie Julie Clary, and was the possessor of a 
 moderate fortune for that time. After being Am- 
 bassador of the French Republic at Rome, he had 
 returned to Paris, bringing with him his wife's sister, 
 Mademoiselle De'sire'e Clary, whom Napoleon had 
 wished to marry. At that time she was in deep 
 affliction on account of the tragic death of General 
 Duphot, who had been killed at Rome, almost before 
 her eyes, shortly before the day set for their mar- 
 riage. After a few months of mourning, she was
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 227 
 
 consoled, and August 16, 1798, while living with her 
 brother-in-law, Joseph, in the rue du Rocher, she mar- 
 ried the future King of Sweden, Bernadotte. 
 
 Lucien, who was born in 1775, was the youngest 
 of the Deputies of the Council of Five Hundred. 
 He possessed a rare intelligence, was well educated, 
 and had a real passion for letters. He wrote much, 
 composed verses, and aspired for fame of all sorts. 
 He was a ready speaker, familiar with antiquity, a 
 man of both imagination and action, and skilfully 
 furthered his brother's glory and interests. He was 
 active, ardent, full of resources, and, in spite of his 
 youth, he exercised considerable influence on his 
 colleagues in the Council of Five Hundred. He was 
 considered a Republican, and he was one in fact; 
 and even on the 18th Brumaire he imagined that 
 lie was still loyal to the Revolutionary cause. In 
 1794 he had held a modest position as warehouse- 
 man in a little province village of the name of Saint 
 Maximin, which, after 1793, had assumed the name 
 of Marathon. He adopted the name of Brutus. 
 Citizen Brutus Bonaparte for so the future Prince 
 of Canino was called fell in love with a pretty and 
 respectable girl, Christine Boyer, whose father was 
 an innkeeper at Saint Maximin. Lucien married 
 her, and Napoleon was furious at a marriage which 
 he looked upon as most unsuitable ; but Madame 
 Lucien Bonaparte, who was handsome and gentle, 
 soon acquired the manners of good society, and was 
 perfectly at home in the finest drawing-room.
 
 228 CITIZENESS SONAPAHTE. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte, who was born in 1779, had 
 accompanied Napoleon to Egypt, but returned to 
 Paris with, despatches. Although later he was to 
 prove more hostile to Josephine than either Joseph 
 or Lucien, before the 18th Brumaire he maintained 
 friendly relations with his sister-in-law, who perhaps 
 thought of him as a son-in-law. 
 
 The youngest of Napoleon's brothers, Jerome, was 
 born in 1784; he was lively, amiable, intelligent, 
 clever ; but rattle-pated, turbulent, fond of pleasure, 
 and tired of always having Eugene de Beauharnais 
 spoken of as the model whom he should imitate. 
 
 Madame Letitia lived in the rue du Rocher with 
 her son Joseph and his wife, an agreeable and worthy 
 woman. Of Napoleon's three sisters, the eldest, 
 Elisa, who was born in 1777, and married in 1797 to 
 Felix Bacciochi, lived in the grande rue Verte, like 
 Lucien. The second, Pauline, who was born in 
 1780, and during the Italian campaign had married 
 General Leclerc, lived in the rue de la Ville FEveque. 
 Caroline, who was born in 1782, was finishing her 
 education at Madame Campaii's school at Saint 
 Germain, where she was a companion of Hortense de 
 Beauharnais. 
 
 All these girls had inherited their mother's beauty, 
 especially Pauline, who was called the handsomest 
 woman in Paris, and was the belle of every ball at 
 which she was present. With the ambition of a 
 daughter of Ccesars, and her irresistible beauty, she 
 triumphed in every drawing-room as did her brother
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 229 
 
 on the battle-field. She was one of those coquettes 
 who wring from the public a cry of admiration and 
 surprise as soon as they appear in sight ; who make 
 the most of all their advantages, and, regarding the 
 world as a stage, are, so to speak, artistic beauties. 
 Madame Leclerc was moderately fond of her sister- 
 in-law, Josephine, who, although older and less beau- 
 tiful, held a much more important position in the 
 Paris world. As for Caroline Bonaparte, she promised 
 not only to possess great beauty, but even a more 
 ambitious spirit than her sister Pauline. 
 
 It was not easy for Josephine to remain even on 
 decorous, not to say affectionate, terms with this large 
 and powerful family. Already the antagonism be- 
 tween the Bonapartes and the Beauharnais began to 
 manifest itself ; and the intrigues, the jealousies, the 
 contesting influences to be seen in courts, appeared 
 under the Republic, even before Napoleon attained 
 power. The house in the rue de la Victoire was, so 
 to speak, a palace of the Tuileries on a small scale ; 
 in it could be discerned the rising germs of the am- 
 bitions, heart-burnings, quarrels, which were to flour- 
 ish full-grown under the Consulate and the Empire. 
 
 Besides these family annoyances, Josephine \\ as 
 often short of money. She spent vast sums on dress, 
 and displayed that combination of luxury and want 
 which distinguishes thriftless people. She owned 
 costly jewels, and often lacked money to pay the 
 most insignificant debts. Madame de Rdmusat tells 
 us that at this period Madame Bonaparte showed her,
 
 230 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 at Malmaison, "the prodigious quantity of pearls, 
 diamonds, and cameos which she possessed; they 
 were already worthy to figure in the Thousand and 
 One Nights, and were yet to be added to enormously. 
 Italy, grateful after the invasion, had contributed to 
 this abundance, and particularly the Pope, who was 
 touched by the consideration displayed by the con- 
 queror in denying himself the pleasure of planting 
 his banners on the walls of Rome." Madame de 
 Re*musat adds that the owner of these treasures, 
 whose place was filled with pictures, statues, and 
 mosaics, was often in want. 
 
 But Josephine bore her troubles very lightly ; and 
 the money troubles that beset her did not distress 
 her beyond measure, for she had no doubts of the 
 happy fortune that awaited her. Amiable, affection- 
 ate, insinuating, with gentle manners, an even temper, 
 a deep voice, a kindly face, Josephine was a charm- 
 ing woman. Never offending any one, never disposed 
 to argue about politics or anything else, distinctly 
 obliging, endowed with that careless grace that 
 distinguishes Creoles, anxious to win every one's 
 sympathy, pleasing, people of every social position, 
 she also possessed most fully the rare quality which 
 covers every fault and is especially attractive in 
 women, kindliness. Royalists forgave the Republi- 
 can origin of the hero of the 13th Venddmiaire, when 
 they said, "His wife is so kind." People who had 
 dreaded a presentation to Bonaparte paid homage to 
 Josephine. We shall see, under the Consulate, peo-
 
 DURING THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN. 231 
 
 pie of the old regime visiting Madame Bonaparte on 
 the ground floor, without going a story higher, where 
 the First Consul lived. Josephine, while seeking 
 Legitimist society, took care to be well received in 
 Republican society. She went to all the entertain- 
 ments of the Directory, and secured the good graces 
 of the official world. Her relations with Barras, 
 who had been one of the witnesses at her wedding, 
 and the main author of her good fortune, continued 
 to be excellent. She especially cultivated the friend- 
 ship of a Republican lady of austere virtue, Madame 
 Gohier, wife of one of the Directors. She thought, 
 and rightly, that intimacy with a woman whose repu- 
 tation was spotless would defend her own. Moreover, 
 the Gohier conciliated those Republicans whose in- 
 stinctive dread of her husband's ambition needed to 
 be allayed. 
 
 According to Josephine, Bonaparte was the purest 
 of patriots, and those who dared to doubt this were 
 moved by malice or envy. This woman, in spite of her 
 frivolous, insignificant appearance, intrigued like an 
 experienced diplomatist. She did not think herself 
 skilful, yet she was; just as many think they are, 
 and are not. The greatest men have been aided by 
 women, whether they knew it or not. Without Jo- 
 sephine, it is probable that Napoleon would never 
 have become Emperor. It was in vain that he told 
 her not to talk politics or to meddle with affairs : she 
 was still the most efficient aid to his plans, and dur- 
 ing his absence she prepared the field on which he 
 was to show himself the master.
 
 XXIV. 
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 
 
 TACITUS uttered a profound truth when he said, 
 "Major e longinquo reverentia" which may be 
 thus translated: " Distance adds to glory." Bonaparte 
 in Egypt became for the Parisians an epic hero ; the 
 Pyramids were the pedestal of his glory. The forty 
 centuries of their history became the prologue of his 
 career. Egypt, Palestine, Syria, those famous and 
 wonderful names, what memories they called forth : 
 the Pharaohs, the Holy Land, Christ, the Crusaders, 
 the Bible, the Gospel, the Delivery of Jerusalem ! 
 Bonaparte, who wrapt himself in his fame, like Talma 
 in a Roman toga ; Bonaparte, who said, " It's imagi- 
 nation that rules the world " ; Bonaparte, who during 
 all the acts of the great drama of his life, kept 
 thinking of the Parisians as Alexander ever thought 
 of the Athenians, had conjectured the effect which 
 such an expedition would produce on the democratic 
 chivalry ; sprung from the Revolution, and felt the 
 same ardor, the same courage, the same thirst for 
 adventures as the old French nobility. Did the 
 Crusaders display more audacity or heroism than the 
 
 232
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYI'T. 233 
 
 companions of the conqueror of the Pyramids, and is 
 there a Golden Book greater than the collection of 
 his proclamations, in which are inscribed the imper- 
 ishable names of so many brave men ? 
 
 Heated by the sun, fired by perpetual victory, the 
 young general conceived gigantic plans. Nowhere 
 did this poet who carried out in life his visions feel 
 so fully at ease as in this old land of Egypt, which 
 opened its vast and brilliant horizons before him. 
 Even after his coronation, after Austerlitz, he was to 
 regret this land of his dreams, where he had planned 
 the conquest of Africa, and Asia, and then of Europe, 
 attacked from behind. Plutarch was not enough for 
 this soul tormented by a colossal ambition. His 
 books were the Bible and the Koran. His Titanic 
 imagination filled with Hebrew and Mahometan 
 poetry, strayed in unknown and infinite regions. 
 Later he told Madame de Rdmusat what he felt at 
 this strange period of his life, when nothing seemed 
 impossible. "In Egypt," he said, "I found myself 
 free from the bonds of a hindering civilization; I 
 dreamed strange dreams and saw the way to put 
 them into action; I created a religion; I fancied 
 myself on the way to Asia on an elephant's back, a 
 turban on my head, and in my hand a new Alcoran, 
 composed by me. In my enterprises I should have 
 concentrated the experiences of two worlds, exploring 
 for my own use the region of all histories, attacking 
 the English power in India, and thereby renewing 
 my relations with the old Europe."
 
 234 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 What a succession of amazing pictures ! what 
 varied scenes ! what picturesque visions ! The Nile, 
 the Pyramids, the Mamelukes, their terrible cavalry 
 dashing itself to pieces against the squares ; the tri- 
 umphal entrance into Cairo ; the Arabs in the mosque 
 singing, " Let us sing the loving-kindness of the 
 great Allah! Who is he who has saved from the 
 perils of the sea and the wrath of his enemies the son 
 of Victory ? Who is he who has led to the shores of 
 the Nile the brave men of the West? It is the great 
 Allah, who is no longer wroth with us ! " Listen to 
 the Oriental dialogue between Bonaparte and the 
 Mufti in the Pyramid : 
 
 " Bonaparte. Glory be to Allah ! There is no 
 God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet. The 
 bread stolen by the wicked man turns to dust in his 
 mouth. 
 
 " The Mufti. Thou hast spoken like the wisest of 
 Mollahs. 
 
 "Bonaparte. I can bring down from heaven a 
 chariot of fire and drive it on earth. 
 
 " The Mufti. Thou art the greatest captain, and 
 art armed with power." 
 
 Bonaparte's condition in Egypt was at the same 
 time one of grandeur and of distress. If at certain 
 moments his ambition and pride fired him with the 
 belief that he was not merely a conqueror but also a 
 prophet, the founder of a religion, a demigod, at 
 other times he was brought back to the reality by 
 the cruel force of destiny. His soul was filled with
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 235 
 
 mingled enthusiasm and melancholy, with a frantic 
 passion for glory and an utter contempt for all earthly 
 vanities. The melancholy from which he had already 
 suffered in the Italian campaign attacked him again 
 in Egypt, and perhaps more severely. It inspired 
 this letter to his brother Joseph, written at Cairo, 
 July 25th, 1798 : " You will see in the public prints 
 the result of the battles and the conquest of Egypt, 
 which was hotly enough disputed to add a new leaf 
 to the military glory of this army. ... I have 
 many domestic trials. . . . Your friendship is very 
 dear to me ; nothing is needed to make me a misan- 
 thrope except to lose you and see you betray me. It 
 is a sad condition to have at once every sort of feel- 
 ing for the same person in one heart. Arrange for 
 me to have a country-place when I return, either near 
 Paris or in Burgundy. I mean to pass the winter 
 there in solitude; I am disgusted with human nature; 
 greatness palls upon me ; my feelings are all withered. 
 Glory is trivial at twenty-nine ; nothing is left me 
 but to become a real egoist. I mean to keep my 
 house ; I shall never give it to any one whatsoever. 
 I have not enough to live on. Farewell, my only 
 friend ; I have never been unjust to you." 
 
 In Egypt, as in Italy, Bonaparte's heart was torn 
 with jealousy. He had doubts of Josephine's feel- 
 ings, of her fidelity, and this thought pursued him 
 even in his military occupations in Syria. Amid all 
 these adventures and perils his imagination often 
 turned to Paris. He forgot the East in thinking of
 
 236 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the little house in the rue de la Victoire, and the fair 
 image of Josephine appeared to him, always fascinat- 
 ing, but at times disturbing. He imagined her at 
 the Luxembourg, at the entertainments of Barras, 
 surrounded by young musicians and adorers whom 
 perhaps she encouraged by her smiles. This is what 
 is narrated by Bourrienne, who was present at an 
 outburst of suspicious wrath before the fountains of 
 Messudiah, near El-Arish. 
 
 Bonaparte was walking alone with Junot; his face, 
 always pale, had become paler than usual. His fea- 
 tures were uneasy, his eye wild. After talking with 
 Junot for a quarter of an hour, he left him and went 
 up to Bourrienne. "You are not devoted to me," 
 he said roughly. "Women! Josephine! If you 
 were devoted to me, you would have told me what 
 I have just learned from Junot. He is a true friend. 
 Josephine and I'm six hundred leagues away ! You 
 ought to have told me. Josephine ! to deceive me 
 in that way ! She ! Confound them ! I will wipe 
 out the whole brood of coxcombs and popinjays ! 
 As for her ! divorce ! -yes, divorce ! a public divorce ! 
 a full exposure ! I must write ! I know everything. 
 You ought to have told me." 
 
 Is not this like Shakspeare's Othello ? 
 
 " Look here, lago ; 
 
 All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven : 'tis gone. 
 Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow hell ! 
 Yield up, O love ! thy crown, and hearted throne, 
 To tyrannous hate 1 swell, bosom, with thy fraught, 
 For 'tis of aspics' tongues 1 "
 
 BONAFAHTE IN EGYPT. 237 
 
 Bonaparte's face changed, his voice broke. 
 
 " O I beware, my lord, of jealousy ; 
 It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock 
 The meat it feeds on : that cuckold lives in bliss, 
 Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger : 
 But, 1 what damned minutes tells he o'er, 
 Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves 1" 
 
 Bourrienne tried to calm the general ; he blamed 
 Junot for a lack of generosity in thus lightly accus- 
 ing a woman who was absent and unable to defend 
 herself. " No," he went on ; " Junot does not prove 
 his devotion by adding domestic trials to the uneasi- 
 ness you feel over the situation of his companions at 
 the beginning of a hazardous enterprise." Bonaparte 
 was not pacified ; he kept muttering something about 
 divorce. Bourrienne spoke to him about his glory. 
 " My glory ! " he replied ; " I don't know what I 
 wouldn't give to know that what Junot has told me 
 is not true, so much do I love that woman ! If Jose- 
 phine is guilty, a divorce must separate us forever. 
 ... I don't wish to be the laughing-stock of all the 
 idlers in Paris. I am going to write to my brother 
 Joseph ; he will see to the divorce." 
 
 Nevertheless, Bonaparte softened a little, and Bour- 
 rienne at once availed himself of the moment to say : 
 "A letter may be intercepted; it will betray the 
 anger that dictated it; as for the divorce, there is 
 time enough for that later, when you shall have 
 reflected." Bourrienne in this case was a wiser coun- 
 sellor than Junot, and Bonaparte did well to listen 
 to his secretary rather than to his fellow-soldier.
 
 238 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 His jealousy was so wild at this time, that he dis- 
 cussed it with his step-son, Josephine's own child, 
 Eugene de Beauharnais, who says in his Memoirs : 
 " The commander-in-chief began to have great causes 
 of annoyance, from the discontent which prevailed 
 in a certain part of the army, especially among some 
 generals, as well as from news he received from 
 France, where attempts were made to undermine his 
 domestic happiness. Though I was young, I inspired 
 him with so much confidence that he spoke to me of 
 his sufferings. It was generally in the evening that 
 he made his complaints and confidence, striding up 
 and down his tent. I was the only one to whom he 
 could unbosom himself freely. I tried to soften his 
 anger; I consoled him as well as I could, so far 
 as my youth and my respect for him permitted." 
 
 The situation of a youth of seventeen receiving 
 confidences of that sort is, at the least, a delicate 
 one. In the whole matter he showed tact and a 
 precocious wisdom, for which Bonaparte was grateful. 
 " The harmony existing between my step-father and 
 me," he says, " was nearly broken by the following 
 incident : General Bonaparte had been paying atten- 
 tions to an officer's wife, and sometimes drove out 
 with her in a barouche. She was a clever woman, 
 and not bad-looking. At once the rumor ran that 
 she was his mistress ; so that my position as aide-de- 
 camp and step-son of the General became very painful. 
 Since it was part of my duty to accompany the 
 General, who never went out without an aide-de-camp,
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 239 
 
 I had already had to follow this barouche ; but I felt 
 so humiliated that I called on General Berthier to 
 ask for a place in his regiment. A somewhat lively 
 interview between my step-father and me was the 
 result of this step ; but from that moment he discon- 
 tinued his drives in a barouche with that lady, and 
 he never treated me any less well on account of it." 
 
 Of the eight aides-de-camp whom Bonaparte took 
 with him to Egypt, four perished there, Julien, 
 Sulkowski, Croisier, and Guibert ; two were wounded, 
 Duroc and Eugene de Beauharnais ; Merlin and 
 Lavalette alone got through safe and sound. If there 
 was a dangerous duty, to ride into the desert and 
 reconnoitre the bands of Arabs or Mamelukes, 
 Eugene was always the first to volunteer. One day, 
 when he was hastening forward with his usual eager- 
 ness, Bonaparte called him back, saying, "Young 
 man, remember that in our business we must never 
 seek danger; we must be satisfied with doing our 
 duty, and doing it well, and leave the rest to God ! " 
 
 Another time, during the siege of Saint Jean 
 d'Acre, the commander-in-chief sent an officer with 
 an order to the most exposed position ; he was killed. 
 Bonaparte sent another, who was also killed ; and so 
 with a third. The order had to go, and Bonaparte 
 had only two aides with him Eugene de Beauharnais 
 and Lavalette. He beckoned to the latter to come 
 forward, and said to him in a low voice, so that 
 Eugene should not hear : " Lavalette, take this order. 
 I don't want to send this boy, and have him killed
 
 240 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 so young; his mother has entrusted him to me. 
 You know what life is. Go ! " 
 
 Another day, also before Saint Jean d'Acre, a piece 
 of shell struck Eugene de Beauharnais in the head: 
 he fell, and lay for a long time under the ruins of a 
 wall which the shell had knocked down. Bonaparte 
 thought he was killed, and uttered a cry of grief. Eu- 
 gene was only wounded, and at the end of nineteen 
 days he asked leave to resume his post, in order to take 
 part in the other assaults, which failed, like the first, 
 in spite of Bonaparte's obstinacy. " This wretched 
 hole," he said to Bourrienne, " has cost me a good deal 
 of time and a great many men ; but things have gone 
 too far ; I must try one last assault. If it succeeds, 
 the treasury, the arms of Djezzar, whose fierceness all 
 Syria curses, will enable me to arm three hundred 
 thousand men. Damascus calls me ; the Druses are 
 waiting for me ; I shall enlarge my army ; I shall an- 
 nounce the abolition of the tyranny of the pashas, and 
 shall reach Constantinople at the head of these masses. 
 Then I shall overthrow the Turkish Empire, and 
 found a new and great one ; I shall make my place foi 
 posterity, and then perhaps I shall return to Paris by 
 Vienna, destroying the house of Austria." All this 
 was but a dream. It was in vain that Bonaparte's 
 obstinacy lashed itself into a fury. It was to no 
 purpose that he stood on a redoubt, with arms 
 crossed, his eye fixed, a target for all the guns of the 
 town, and commanded a final effort. His army, be- 
 ing destitute of artillery, had to raise the siege and
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 241 
 
 return to Egypt. There was an end to the conquest 
 of Asia Minor, the entrance into Constantinople, the 
 attack on Europe in the rear, and a triumphal re- 
 turn to France by the banks of the Danube and Ger- 
 many ! Bonaparte was not to be the Emperor of the 
 East, and in speaking with vexation of the English 
 commodore who defended Saint Jean d'Acre, he 
 said: "That Sidney Smith made me miss my for- 
 tune." But how skilfully he managed to conceal 
 his failure, and to paint the Syrian expedition with 
 brilliant colors ! What cleverness in his proclama- 
 tion of May 17, 1799: "Soldiers, you have crossed 
 the desert that separates Africa from Asia more 
 swiftly than an Arab army. The army which was 
 marching to invade Egypt is destroyed ; you have 
 captured its general, its wagons, its supply of water, 
 its camels. You have taken possession of all the 
 strong places that defended the oases. You have 
 scattered in the fields of Mount Tabor the swarms 
 of men who had gathered from all parts of Asia, in 
 the hope of pillaging Egypt. ... A few days more, 
 and you hoped to take the Pasha himself in his 
 palace ; but, at this season, the capture of the fortress 
 of Acre is not worth the loss of a few da}^s ; the 
 brave men whom I should have had to lose there are 
 now required for more important operations." 
 
 In spite of great privations and of a heat of 107 F., 
 the army took only twenty-five days, seventeen of 
 which were spent in marching, to make the one hun- 
 dred and nineteen leagues that separate Saint Jean
 
 242 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 d'Acre from Cairo. Bonaparte re-entered this city 
 like an ancient general on the day of his triumph. 
 The procession resembled that of a conquering 
 Pharaoh, with its Oriental magnificence, its music, 
 and the applause. The captured enemy opened the 
 march; then came soldiers bearing the flags taken 
 from the Turks. The French garrison of Cairo and 
 the leading men of the city went as far as the suburb 
 of Couble", to see the man whom the Arabs called 
 Sultan Kebir, the Sultan of Fire. The Sheik el 
 Bekri, a revered descendant of the Prophet, offered 
 him a magnificent horse, with a saddle adorned with 
 gold and pearls, and the young slave who held his 
 bridle. This slave was Rustan, the Mameluke of the 
 future Emperor. Other presents were also offered : 
 slaves, white and black, superb arms, costly rings, 
 dromedaries renowned for their speed, scent-boxes 
 filled with incense and perfumes. Preceded by the 
 Muftis and Ulemas of the mosque of Gama el Azhar, 
 the hero of Mount Tabor, with all the majesty of a 
 Sesostris, entered Cairo by the Gate of Victories, Bab 
 el Nasr. 
 
 A few days later the Turkish army, which had 
 assembled at Rhodes, appeared, escorted by Sidney 
 Smith's fleet, in sight of Alexandria, and anchored at 
 Aboukir. The Turks landed, to the number of eigh- 
 teen thousand. Bonaparte marched out to meet them, 
 and, July 24, destroyed the entire army. That even- 
 ing Kle*ber said, as he embraced him, " General, you 
 are as great as the world ! " But the hour was draw-
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 243 
 
 ing nigh when the hero of Aboukir was about to 
 return to France. Fate had robbed him of his Orien- 
 tal glory ; his fortune was going to change the scene. 
 He was to be neither an Alexander nor a Mahomet, 
 but a Charlemagne. For six months he had received 
 no news from France. He sent a flag of truce to the 
 enemy's fleet to try to get some information under 
 pretext of arranging an exchange of prisoners. Sid- 
 ney Smith took a malign pleasure in communicating 
 to Bonaparte a long list of disasters: the coalition 
 victorious; the natural boundaries of France aban- 
 doned ; the Rhine recrossed ; Italy lost ; the fruits of 
 so many efforts and so many victories destroyed. 
 " Knowing General Bonaparte to be deprived of 
 news," said the English commodore, "I hope to be 
 agreeable to him in sending him a fresh batch of 
 papers." Bonaparte received them in the night of 
 August 3, and read them till morning with a mixture 
 of curiosity and wrath. At that moment his plan 
 was formed ; he determined to return to France, in 
 spite of the vigilance of the English cruisers. A lack 
 of water and an accident to one of the ships compelled 
 the enemy to raise the blockade, and so favored his 
 departure. Meanwhile he kept his secret to himself, 
 went up the Nile to Cairo, stayed there six days, pre- 
 tended to be summoned to an inspection in the prov- 
 ince of Damietta, and returned mysteriously to the 
 neighborhood of Alexandria. He made Rear-Admiral 
 Gantheaume prepare two frigates, the Muiron and the 
 Carridre, and two despatch-boats, the Revanche and
 
 244 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 the Fortune. It was between the arm of the Nile 
 and Pharillon that he was to embark with a few com- 
 panions, Murat, Berthier, Eugene de Beauharnais, 
 Bourrienne, and one or two others, in the night of 
 August 22. Sidney Smith did not even suspect so 
 rash and unlikely a project. 
 
 Prince Eugene, in his Memoirs, thus describes this 
 departure, which reads like a bit of romance : " As 
 we drew near Alexandria, I was sent down to the 
 edge of the sea to ascertain if our preparations for 
 departure had been observed. On my return, the 
 General interrogated me somewhat anxiously, but his 
 face was soon lit with satisfaction when I told him 
 that I had seen two frigates, but that they seemed to 
 carry the French flag. In fact, he had every reason 
 to be satisfied, since he saw his plan successful ; for 
 these two frigates were to carry us to France. He 
 informed me of this at once, saying, ' Eugene, you 
 are going to see your mother.' These words did not 
 give m'e the joy I should have expected. We em- 
 barked that very night, and I noticed that my com- 
 panions shared my awkwardness and sadness. The 
 mystery surrounding our departure, regret at leaving 
 our brave companions, the fear of being captured by 
 the English, and our faint hope of ever seeing France, 
 may explain this feeling." 
 
 Bonaparte alone had no doubts of a safe journey. 
 A dead calm delayed the frigate in which he had 
 just embarked. Gantheaume was discouraged, and 
 proposed that he return to shore. " No," he answered
 
 BONAPARTE IN EGYPT. 245 
 
 the admiral. " Don't be uneasy ; we shall get off." 
 The next day, August 23, at sunrise, the calm con- 
 tinued, but at nine in the morning the wind rose, and 
 Bonaparte, bidding Egypt an eternal farewell, put 
 out to sea, sure that fortune would not betray him.
 
 XXV. 
 
 THE RETURN FROM EGYPT. 
 
 THE Egyptian campaign was of little service to 
 France, but to Napoleon it was most useful. 
 It gave strange, mysterious quality to his glory, and 
 placed him on an equality with the men who most 
 impress the popular imagination ; with Alexander, 
 Csesar, and Mahomet. Napoleon also had the gift of 
 keeping his successes prominent, and letting his de- 
 feats sink out of sight. When he returned from 
 Syria, after a serious check, he made the authorities 
 of Cairo receive him with as much distinction as if 
 he had taken Saint Jean d'Acre. Pie effaced the 
 memory of the naval defeat of Aboukir by winning 
 on land a victory called by the same name. Egypt is 
 remote ; the French at home noticed only the more 
 brilliant points of the expedition, and all the failures 
 sunk out of sight in a success which was thought to 
 be decisive, though it was really only ephemeral. 
 
 Bonaparte staked everything on one throw by leav- 
 ing his army. If he had been captured by the Eng- 
 lish cruisers, he would have been severely blamed by 
 the public, and all their accusations would perhaps 
 
 246
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
 
 THE RETURN FROM EGYPT. 247 
 
 have crushed in the egg the imperial eagle, to use the 
 poet's phrase. If great men would cease to be infat- 
 uated about themselves and would honestly analyze 
 their glory, they would see that they often owe more 
 to chance than to skill; that they won when they 
 ought to have lost, and lost when they should have 
 gained ; and that the applause of the multitude 
 accompanies success rather than merit. Of all Napo- 
 leon's conceptions, the campaign in France was doubt- 
 less the finest, but it was a failure. His Egyptian 
 expedition, according to his greatest admirers, was 
 badly planned, and yet it proved a stepping-stone to 
 the throne. When men of strong character succeed, 
 they explain their blunders which have turned out 
 well by saying that they had confidence in their star, 
 and never doubted the result. This fatalism has no 
 real foundation. How many of these pretended stars 
 vanish from the sky of politics ! These men are in 
 fact gamblers who excuse their love of adventure with 
 the first pretext that occurs to them, to atone for 
 their audacity and impress the popular spirit. For 
 our part, we have little faith in this sort of fatalism, 
 of which the inventors are the first victims. 
 
 The whole Egyptian . campaign was made up of 
 rashness and risks. It was only by a miracle that the 
 invaders were able to arrive there without being scat- 
 tered by the English fleet, against which they could 
 have done nothing. Another miracle was Bonaparte's 
 return to France without meeting the enemy's cruis- 
 ers. Very often on this long and perilous voyage he
 
 248 CIT1ZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 narrowly escaped capture. And what would his two 
 frigates and two despatch-boats have done against 
 the English fleet? The four old-fashioned Venetian 
 crafts were slow sailers that would have been over- 
 hauled in a few hours, and would have been power- 
 less against the finest ships in the world. Bonaparte's 
 only chance lay in not meeting the English ships, and 
 they were active on the Egyptian coast, and, indeed, 
 throughout the Mediterranean. The wind at first 
 drove the four vessels to the left of Alexandria, in 
 sight of the Cyrenaic coast, a hundred leagues from 
 Sidney Smith. Then they sailed to the northwest 
 and were detained twenty-four days off that arid and 
 uninhabited coast, where no one suspected their pres- 
 ence. Bonaparte ordered Admiral Gantheaume to 
 hug the African shore in order that he might tarry 
 in case of an attack by the English, and then with a 
 handful of men and the petty sum of seventeen thou- 
 sand francs, which was the sole treasure he brought 
 from Egypt, he would make his way to Tunis or 
 Oran, and there again take shipping. September 15, 
 the wind changed and blew fresh from the southwest, 
 and they availed themselves of it. September 19, 
 they were running between Cape Bon and Sicily, a 
 dangerous place, because it was always full of English 
 ships. Fortunately they arrived there at nightfall ; 
 had they got there earlier, the enemy would have 
 seen them ; later, it would have been too dark to risk 
 pushing on. The four ships thus favored by fate 
 continued on their way, and after seeing in the dark-
 
 THE RETURN FROM EGYPT. 249 
 
 ness the lights of an English cruiser, were out of 
 sight at sunrise the next morning. A favorable wind 
 brought them off Ajaccio. 
 
 Was Corsica still in possession of the French? 
 Bonaparte did not know; and if he were to land 
 there, he might be captured. He hesitated, and one 
 of the despatch-boats hailed a fishing-smack and 
 ascertained that Corsica still belonged to France. 
 The fishermen could not say whether Provence was 
 free or invaded by the Austrians, so Bonaparte de- 
 cided to land in Corsica and find out the state of 
 affairs. At that moment a ship sailed out of the 
 harbor of Ajaccio ; when it heard that Bonaparte was 
 so near, it saluted him with all its guns, and hastened 
 back to carry the news to the people of the town. 
 At once there was firing of cannon, and soldiers, 
 citizens, workmen, and peasants hastened to the 
 water's edge ; the sea was covered with boats that 
 had put forth to meet the famous Corsican. 
 
 In one of these boats was an old woman, dressed 
 in black, who stretched out her arms to the great 
 man, rapturously exclaiming, " Caro figlio I " It was 
 his nurse. Without stopping for quarantine, which 
 was relaxed in his case, he landed and visited the 
 house in which he was born ; and as if he were al- 
 ready a sovereign, he administered justice and freed 
 prisoners. 
 
 For the next few days contrary winds prevailed. 
 For nine days Bonaparte was compelled to linger in 
 Corsica, in continual fear lest the English should get
 
 250 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 wind of his presence. At last, October 7, the wind 
 was fair, and he decided to sail for the coast of 
 Provence, in spite of every obstacle ; so they heaved 
 and set forth, the Muiron being towed to sea by a 
 boatful of sturdy rowers. 
 
 Bonaparte must have had his fill of strong emotions. 
 The nearer he came to port, the more his danger grew. 
 In a few hours, in a few minutes, he might be in the 
 hands of the English; everything depended on the 
 wind. Once on French soil, nothing could mar his 
 future ; but if he should fail to reach it, if after 
 abandoning his army in Egypt he should be captured 
 by the English, what would not his enemies say 
 about his wild adventure ? On one side ridicule, on 
 the other omnipotence ; to be branded as an adven- 
 turer, or to be glorified as a hero. This hardy gam- 
 bler, who was forever playing at high stakes with 
 fate, and so far had always won, liked these extreme 
 crises, which fed his ardent imagination and fearless 
 nature. During the Avhole day, October 7, they 
 sailed along smoothly; already Bonaparte and his 
 companions could see the mountains of Provence, 
 and were congratulating themselves on landing in a 
 few hours, when suddenly a lookout called down 
 from aloft that he saw many sails, six leagues off, 
 lit up by the sunset. Evidently they were the 
 enemy's ships ; and they all thought themselves lost. 
 Gantheaume declared that Bonaparte's only chance 
 was to jump into the boat that was towing the Mui- 
 ron and to return to Ajaccio; but he quickly an-
 
 THE RETURN FROM EGYPT. 251 
 
 swered the admiral : " Do you think I could consent 
 to run away like a criminal when fortune deserts me ? 
 I am not destined to be captured and killed here. 
 . . . Your advice might be of use as a last resource, 
 after exchanging a few shots, when there is absolutely 
 no other means of escaping." It was his fatalism 
 that gave the hero of the Pyramids this imperturba- 
 bility, and his instinct did not deceive him. Sud- 
 denly he restored confidence to the whole crew ; he 
 bade them notice that it was the sunset that lit up 
 the enemy's ships on the horizon, and that it left 
 Muiron and the Carriere in darkness. "We see 
 them, and they don't see us ; so take courage ! " 
 Does it not seem as if the winds obeyed him and 
 blew as he commanded, and that the sun, too, obeyed 
 him when it lit up the English fleet and hid in dark- 
 ness the ship that bore the future Caesar? "Away 
 with fears and cowardly counsels ! Crowd on sail ! " 
 shouted Bonaparte. " All hands aloft ! Head north- 
 west ! " The whole crew recovered confidence. They 
 made for the nearest anchorage, and the next morn- 
 ing, October 9, at nine o'clock, entered the bay of 
 Saint Raphael, eight hundred metres from the village 
 of that name, and half a league from Fre"jus, after a 
 voyage of forty-four days. 
 
 Was Bonaparte going to submit to the quarantine ? 
 He pretended that he was, but it was only a feint. 
 The quarantine station was about a half a mile 
 from Fre"jus. An officer of the Muiron went lOshore in 
 a small boat to announce Bonaparte's arrival, and
 
 252 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 his intention to go into quarantine ; but no sooner 
 was the officer seen, than the wildest excitement 
 broke out on the shore, which was soon covered with 
 a dense throng. The people of Fre'jus hastened into 
 their boats, crying, " Long live Bonaparte ! " and 
 sailed out to the frigate on which he was. " No 
 quarantine for you!" they shouted. "We had rather 
 have the plague than the Austrians ! No quarantine 
 for our protector, for the hero who has come to de- 
 fend Provence." Bonaparte went ashore, and a 
 white horse was brought to him ; he got on its back, 
 and entered Fre'jus amid the cheers of the populace. 
 He stayed there only four hours, and then pushed 
 on, enjoying one long triumph. At Aix, at Avignon, 
 at Valence, he was received with indescribable en- 
 thusiasm. At Lyons he spent a day. A huge crowd 
 gathered under his windows, calling upon him to 
 show himself. In the evening he went to the theatre, 
 and hid in the back of the box, making Duroc sit in 
 front. " Bonaparte, Bonaparte ! " shouted the excited 
 audience, and so hotly, that he was forced to show 
 himself : at the moment he appeared the wildest 
 applause broke out. At midnight he started again, 
 and instead of going through Macon, as was expected, 
 he took the road by the Bourbonnais, in a post-chaise 
 which pushed on swiftly night and day. 
 
 Paris had already received word by the telegraph 
 of his landing. Within a fortnight information had 
 been received of Masse"na's victory in Switzerland ; of 
 Brune's in Holland; of Bonaparte's at Aboukir, ami
 
 THE EETURN FROM EGYPT. 253 
 
 of his arrival in France, and the joy universal. The 
 bells were rung in every town and village through 
 which he passed. At night bonfires were lit along 
 the road. In the Paris theatres the actors announced 
 the good news from the stage, and the plays were 
 interrupted by cries and cheers and patriotic songs. 
 In the Council of the Ancients, Lucien Bonaparte, 
 though the youngest member, was elected President. 
 When the news came that the hero of the Pyramids 
 was returning, there were Republicans and patriots 
 who were beside themselves with pleasure. It was 
 when dining at the Luxembourg with Gohier, the 
 President of the Directory, October 10, that Jo- 
 sephine heard that her husband had landed. She 
 noticed that the news caused her host more surprise 
 than pleasure. "Mr. President," she said, "do not 
 be afraid that Bonaparte is coming with any inten- 
 tions unfavorable to liberty. But you must unite to 
 prevent his falling into bad company. I shall go 
 to meet him. I must not on any account let any of 
 his brothers, who hate me, see him first. Besides," 
 she added, turning a look to Gohier's wife, "I need 
 not fear calumny, when Bonaparte hears that you 
 have been my most intimate friend ; and he will be 
 both pleased and grateful when he hears how well I 
 have been treated here during his absence." Thus 
 reassuring herself, Josephine at once left Paris to 
 meet her husband ; but since she took the road 
 through Burgundy, and he the one through the 
 Bourbonnais, she failed to meet him on the way, and 
 he was back in Paris first.
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE MEETING OF BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE. 
 
 ONAPARTE arrived in Paris the morning of 
 J3 the 24th Venddmiaire, Year VIII. (October 16, 
 1799). He went at once to his house in the rue de 
 la Victoire, and alone, as he did after his return 
 from Italy. But then he knew that he would not 
 find Josephine there, whereas now he felt sure that 
 she would be there. The empty house filled him 
 with bitterness. Where was his wife ? Was she 
 guilty, and did she dread to meet her enraged hus- 
 band? Was everything that had been said about 
 her true? Bonaparte's suspicious heart was full of 
 wrath. His brothers, who were extremely hostile to 
 Josephine, less from zeal for morality than from envy 
 of her influence, skilfully fed this feeling of jealousy 
 and anger. Bonaparte, who was deeply distressed 
 already, began to think of separation and divorce. 
 His old love, rekindled by his annoyance and fury, 
 tortured him again. For a moment, he forgot the 
 supreme power he was about to grasp, and thought 
 only of his conjugal infelicity. 
 
 Josephine, too, was uneasy. She had tried to meet 
 her husband to anticipate the accusations that would
 
 BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE. 255 
 
 be made against her. Confident of the power of her 
 beauty, she had said to herself: "Let me be the first 
 to see him, and he will fall into my arms." But she 
 had not been able to meet him on the way ; and he 
 when he arrived had found a solitude. What must 
 he have thought in the empty rooms ? He had been 
 there two days when Josephine reached Paris. She 
 trembled with anxiety. What was going to happen ? 
 Was she to see a lover's or a judge's face confronting 
 her? Was she to meet the Bonaparte of other days, 
 so loving and affectionate, or a Bonaparte angry, 
 black, and terrible ? It was a cruel uncertainty, full 
 of anguish. Poor woman ! She was full of joy and 
 of uneasiness, uncertain whether she was to find 
 happiness or misery. Swiftly she ascended the little 
 staircase leading to her husband's room, but, to her 
 grief, the door was locked. She knocked; it was 
 not opened. She knocked again, and called, and 
 begged. He, protected by the bolts, answered 
 from within that the door would never again be 
 opened for her. Then she fell on her knees and 
 wept. The whole house was filled with her sobs. 
 She prayed and implored, but in vain. The night 
 wore on ; she remained at the threshold of the for- 
 bidden room, Avhich was a sort of paradise lost. She 
 did not lose all hope ; her entreaties and tears did 
 not cease. Are not tears a woman's last argument ? 
 Were not those tears to be dried by kisses? She 
 could not believe that after having been so much 
 adored, she would not be able to regain her empire.
 
 256 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Bonaparte might resist her voice when he could not 
 see her face, but he would not resist her tearful 
 smile. When she seemed in the deepest despair, 
 Josephine still hoped, and with reason. 
 
 Yet she had long to wait ; Bonaparte was so inflex- 
 ible that at one moment she thought of ceasing the 
 struggle. She was about to withdraw, exhausted by 
 fatigue and emotion, when it occurred to one of her 
 women to say to her, "Send for your son and 
 daughter." She followed this wise advice. Eugene 
 and Hortense came, and added their entreaties to 
 Josephine's. " I beg of you. . . . Do not abandon our 
 mother. ... It will kill her. And we, poor orphans, 
 whose father perished on the scaffold, shall we also 
 lose him whom Providence put in his place ? " 
 
 Bonaparte at last consented to open his door. His 
 face was still severe ; he uttered reproaches, and 
 Josephine trembled. Turning to Eugene he said, 
 " As for you, you shall not suffer for your mother's 
 misdeeds; I shall keep you with me." "No, Gen- 
 eral," answered the young man; "I bid you farewell 
 on the spot." Bonaparte began to yield ; he pressed 
 Eugene to his heart, and seeing both Josephine and 
 Hortense on their knees, he forgave, and with eyes 
 bright with joy, let himself be convinced by Jose- 
 phine's arguments. The reconciliation was complete. 
 At seven in the morning he sent for his brother 
 Lucien, who had brought the charges, and when 
 Lucien entered the room, he found the husband and 
 wife reconciled and lying in the same bed.
 
 BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE. 257 
 
 Bonaparte did wisely in thus making a reconcilia- 
 tion with his wife. A separation would have been 
 a choice bit of scandal for the ill-disposed Royalists 
 to turn to their profit. Bonaparte was not yet a 
 Caesar ; his wife might be suspected. Besides, accord- 
 ing to the tenets of society under the Directory, sus- 
 picions of that sort were not fatal to a fashionable 
 woman, and public opinion had more serious ques- 
 tions to consider, than whether Citizeness Bonaparte 
 had been, or had not been, faithful to her husband. 
 The hero of the Pyramids did the best thing possible 
 when he thus put an end to the not wholly disin- 
 terested accusations of his brothers, and turned his 
 attention to more serious matters than the recrimina- 
 tions of a husband who, rightly or wrongly, thought 
 himself deceived. Josephine was once more to fur- 
 ther her husband's plans. She was bright, tactful, 
 and perfectly familiar with Parisian society and the 
 political world. Knowing all about everything, she 
 was about to play, with consummate skill, her part 
 in preparing for the coup d'etat of Brumaire. 
 
 As soon as he arrived, Bonaparte became conscious 
 of the distrust of the Directoiy. The very first day 
 he went to the Luxembourg with Monge, a friend of 
 Gohier, the President of the Directoiy. " How glad 
 I am, my dear President," said Monge, " to find the 
 Republic triumphant I " "I too am very glad," said 
 Bonaparte, in some embarrassment. " The news we 
 received in Egypt was so alarming, that I did not 
 hesitate to leave my army to come to share its perils."
 
 258 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 " General," answered Gohier, " they were great, but 
 we have made a happy issue. You have come just 
 in time to celebrate the glorious victories of your 
 companions-in-arms." The next day, the 25th Ven- 
 ddmiaire, Bonaparte made another visit to the Direc- 
 tory. " Citizen Directors," he exclaimed, touching the 
 handle of his sword, " I -swear that this sword shall 
 never be drawn except in defence of the Republic 
 and of its government." Gohier replied : " General, 
 your presence revives in every Frenchman's heart the 
 glorious feeling of liberty. It is with shouts of 
 ' Long live the Republic ! ' that Bonaparte ought to 
 be received." The ceremony terminated with the 
 fraternal embrace, but it was neither given nor re- 
 ceived in a spirit of brotherly love. 
 
 The moment of the crisis drew near. Where was 
 Bonaparte to find support? Among the zealous 
 revolutionists, or on the side of the moderate ? The 
 head of the moderate party was one of the Directors, 
 Sieyes. For this former abbe* he had an instinctive 
 repulsion; but on reflection he felt that he needed 
 him, and he decided to make use of him. Moreau, 
 who had won celebrity by his victories, might be his 
 rival ; he conciliated him. Gohier has described their 
 interview. He had invited to dinner Bonaparte, 
 Josephine, and SieySs. When Josephine saw the 
 last-named in the drawing-room, "What have you 
 done ? " she asked Gohier ; " Sieyds is the man whom 
 Bonaparte detests more than any one. He can't 
 endure him." In fact, during the whole dinner.
 
 BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE. . 259 
 
 Bonaparte did not once speak to Sieye's ; he even pre- 
 tended not to see him. Sieye*s was furious when he 
 rose from the table. " Did you notice," he asked his 
 host, " how the insolent fellow treated a member of 
 the board which ought to have ordered him to be 
 shot?" 
 
 After dinner Moreau arrived. It was the first time 
 the two distinguished generals had met, and each 
 seemed delighted to see the other. It was Bonaparte 
 who made all the advances. A few days later he 
 gave to Moreau, as a token of friendship, a sabre set 
 with diamonds, and on the 18th Brumaire he was 
 able to persuade him to be the jailer of the Directors 
 who would not aid the coup (Ttat. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was always of service to her 
 husband in his relations with the men of whom he 
 wanted to make use. She fascinated every one who 
 came near her, by her exquisite grace and charming 
 courtesy. All the brusqueness and violence of Bona- 
 parte's manners were tempered by the soothing and 
 insinuating gentleness of his amiable and kindly 
 wife. She was to exercise direct influence on the 
 victims and accomplices of the coup d'ttat, on Bar- 
 ras, Gohier, Sieye's, Fouche', Moreau, and Talleyrand. 
 Who knows? Without Josephine's skill and tact, 
 Bonaparte might, perhaps, have made a failure, have 
 broken prematurely with Barras, have thrown off the 
 mask too soon, before he had had time to make a for- 
 midable plot. The 8th Brumaire (October 30), when 
 dining with Barras, he had great difficulty in re-
 
 2GO CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 straining himself. Barras played the same game that 
 lie did, and spoke of his unselfishness, his fatigue, his 
 shattered health, his need of rest, and said that he 
 must resign and have a wholly unknown person, 
 General Hedouville, put at the head of the govern- 
 ment. Bonaparte was on the point of breaking out. 
 He left Barras's rooms in a rage, and before going 
 from the Luxembourg, went into those of Sieyes. 
 " It's with you, and with you alone, that I mean to 
 march," he said, and it was agreed to have everything 
 ready for the 18th or 20th Brumaire. 
 
 Meanwhile Bonaparte became more crafty than 
 ever. He said he was tired of men and things, that 
 he was ill and quite upset by changing a dry climate 
 for a damp one ; he posed for a Cincinnatus anxious 
 to return to the plough, and kept out of the eyes of 
 the public, arousing its curiosity the less he gratified 
 it. If he went to the theatre, it was without giving 
 notice, and he took a close box. He dressed more 
 simply than usual. Instead of a full uniform or 
 epaulettes, he wore the gray overcoat which was 
 destined to become a subject of legend. He affected 
 to prefer to anything else scientific or literary con- 
 versation with his colleagues of the Institute. The 
 austere Gohier, who was naturally credulous, and, 
 besides, deceived by Josephine, refused to believe in 
 any lawless plans on the part of such a man. Him- 
 self a patriot and a Republican, he imagined that 
 every one agreed with him regarding the Constitu- 
 tion of the Year III. as the holy ark. All this time
 
 BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE. 261 
 
 IK; was weaving his political plans as if lie were form- 
 ing a plan for a battle. Eveiy party regarded him as 
 its mainstay, and every party was mistaken. Bona- 
 parte meant to make use of one of them, perhaps of 
 all, but not to be of service to any one of them. As 
 he said afterwards to Madame de Rdmusat, in talking 
 about this period of his career : " The Directory was 
 not uneasy at my return ; I was extremely on my 
 guard, and never in my life have I displayed more 
 skill. I saw the Abbe* SieySs, and promised him the 
 carrying out of his long-winded constitution ; I re- 
 ceived the leaders of the Jacobins, the agents of the 
 Bourbons ; I gave my advice to every one, but I only 
 gave what would further my plans. I kept aloof 
 from the populace because I knew that it was time ; 
 curiosity would make every one dog my steps. Eveiy 
 one ran into my traps, and when I became the head 
 of the State, there was not a party in France that did 
 not base its hopes on my success." 
 
 The hour was approaching when there was to be 
 realized the wish, the prediction, which Suleau had 
 made in 1792, in the ninth number of his paper which 
 he published among Conde"s soldiers at Coblentz. " I 
 repeat it calmly that the tutelary deity whom I in- 
 voke for my country is a despot, provided that he be 
 a man of genius. It is the absolute inflexibility of a 
 Richelieu that I demand ; a man like that needs only 
 territory and force to create an empire. France can 
 be made a nation again only after it has been bowed in 
 silence beneath the iron rule of a severe and relentless
 
 262 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 master. When I call on despotism to come to the aid 
 of my unhappy country, I mean the union of powers 
 in the hands of an imperious master, of a cruel 
 capacity, jealous of rule, and utterly absolute. I 
 demand a magnanimous usurper who knows how, by 
 means of the haughty and brilliant spirit of a Crom- 
 well, to make a people admired and respected, whom 
 he compels to respect and bless their subjection." 
 This issue was about to appear. The long plot 
 framed by the reaction since 1795 was finished.
 
 XXVII. 
 
 THE PBOLOGUE OP THE 18TH BRUMAIBE. 
 
 A FEW days before the 18th Brumaire, Bona- 
 parte happened to be at the estate of his brother 
 Joseph, at Mortefontaine. Being anxious for a free dis- 
 cussion with Regnault de Saint Jean d'Angely, of the 
 events that were preparing, he proposed to him that 
 they should take a ride together. As the two men 
 were galloping wildly by the ponds, over the rocks, 
 Bonaparte's horse stumbled on a stone hidden in the 
 sand and threw the general off with some violence 
 to a distance of twelve or fifteen feet. Regnault 
 sprang from his horse and ran up to him, finding him 
 senseless: his pulse was imperceptible; he did not 
 breathe ; he thought him dead. It was a false alarm. 
 In a few minutes Bonaparte came to himself, with no 
 bones broken, no scratch, no bruise, and mounted his 
 horse. "Oh, General," exclaimed his companion, 
 " what a fright you gave me ! " and Bonaparte said, 
 " That was a little stone on which all our plans came 
 near shattering." It was true ; that pebble might 
 have changed the fate of the world. 
 
 The conspiracy was organized, and the end was ap-
 
 264 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 proaching. Bonaparte, who was a conspirator as well 
 as a soldier, prepared it with thoroughly Italian sub- 
 tlety and wiliness. With consummate skill he antici- 
 pated public opinions, while pretending aversion to 
 the coup d'etat which was his heart's desire. For 
 several days the officers in Paris had been trying to 
 get an opportunity to present their respects, but he 
 had not consented to see them. The officers com- 
 plained, and the public began to say, " He won't do 
 any more than he did after his return from Italy. 
 Who will help us out of the mire ? " To the end he 
 haunted Republican society. Josephine and he were 
 untiring in their attentions to Gohier and his wife. 
 At the same time he understood how to call up memo- 
 ries of the Terror, to impress men's imaginations, and 
 to evoke the red spectre which always made the blood 
 of the middle classes run cold. 
 
 As Edgar Quinet has put it, the 18th Brumaire 
 was to be a union of fear and glory. Every one was 
 anxious and in terror of worse things yet, of riots, 
 proscriptions, the guillotine, and sure that no one 
 but Bonaparte could prevent the return of 1793. He 
 was entreated to take some step, and when he com- 
 plied, he seemed to be yielding to popular clamor. 
 The coup d^tat was in the air. Everywhere Bona- 
 parte found allies and accomplices. To secure gen- 
 eral approval only one thing was wanted, success. 
 
 The 15th Brumaire (the final plan of the conspi- 
 racy was to be determined on that day), Bonaparte 
 was present at a subscription dinner given him by
 
 TIIE PROLOGUE OF THE 18TH BRUMAIRE. 265 
 
 five or six hundred members of the two Councils. 
 " Never at a civic banquet," says Gohier in his Me- 
 moirs, " was there less expression given to Republican 
 sentiments." There was no gaiety, no mutual con- 
 gratulations. The dinner was given in the Temple 
 of Victory, otherwise known as the Church of Saint 
 Sulpice. It seemed as if no one dared to speak 
 aloud in the sanctuary, and as if every one were op- 
 pressed by some gloomy foreboding. Every one was 
 watching and knowing that he was watched. Bona- 
 parte, who sat at the 'right hand of Gohier, the Presi- 
 dent of the Directory, appeared out of spirits and 
 ill at ease. He partook of nothing but bread and 
 T /ine brought to him by his aide-de-camp. Was he 
 afraid of poison? The official toasts, proposed with- 
 out enthusiasm, were drunk coolly. Bonaparte did 
 not even stay till the end of the dinner ; he sud- 
 denly rose from the table, walked about, uttering 
 a few hasty words to the principal guests, and went 
 away. 
 
 Arnault describes that evening at the general's 
 house. Josephine did the honors of her drawing-room 
 with even more than her usual grace. Men of all 
 parties were gathered there, generals, deputies. 
 Royalists, Jacobins, abbe's, a minister, and even the 
 President of the Directory. From the lordly air of 
 the master of the house, it seemed as if already he 
 felt himself to be a monarch surrounded by his court. 
 Minister Fouchd arrived and sat down oii the sofa by 
 Madame Bonaparte's side.
 
 266 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 ' G-ohier. What's the news, Citizen Minister ? 
 
 " Fouch. The news ? Oh ! nothing. 
 
 " Giohier. But besides that? 
 
 " Fouche". Always the same idle rumors. 
 
 " aohier. What? 
 
 " Foucht. The same old conspiracy. 
 
 " G-ohier (shrugging his shoulders'). The conspiracy ! 
 
 " Fouch. Yes, the conspiracy ! But I know how 
 to treat that. I thoroughly understand it, Citizen 
 Director ; have confidence in me ; I am not going to 
 be caught. If there had been a conspiracy all the 
 time it's been talked of, would there not be some 
 signs of it in the Place de la Revolution or in the 
 plain of Greuelle? [At these words Fouch6 burst 
 out laughing.] 
 
 " Madame Bonaparte. For shame, Citizen Fouchd ! 
 Can you laugh at such things ? 
 
 " Grohier. The Minister speaks like a man who 
 understands his business. But calm yourself, Citi- 
 zeness ; to talk about such things before ladies is to 
 think they will not have to be done. Act like the 
 government; do not be uneasy at those rumors. 
 Sleep quietly." 
 
 Bonaparte listened with a smile. 
 
 The evening passed as usual ; there was no excite- 
 ment, no uneasiness on any one's face. Her draw- 
 ing-room gradually emptied. Fouchd and Gohier 
 took leave of Josephine, who withdrew to her own 
 room. Arnault stayed to the last and had this con- 
 versation with Bonaparte.
 
 TUB PROLOGUE OF THE ISrrr BRUMAIRE. 267 
 
 "General, I have come to know if to-morrow is 
 still the day, and to get your instructions." 
 
 " It's put off till the 18th." 
 
 "Till the 18th?" 
 
 "The 18th." 
 
 " When it has got out ? Don't you notice how 
 every one is talking about it ? " 
 
 " Everybody is talking about it, but no one believes 
 in it. Besides, there is a reason. Those imbeciles 
 of the Council of the Ancients have scruples. They 
 have begged for twenty-four hours for reflection ! " 
 
 "And you have granted them ?" 
 
 " What's the harm ? I give them time to convince 
 themselves that I can do without them what I wish 
 to do with them. To the 18th, then. Come in and 
 drink a cup of tea to-morrow ; if there is any change, 
 I'll let you know. Good night." 
 
 Two days were not too many for the final prepa- 
 rations. "Josephine was in the secret," says Gen- 
 eral de Se'gur. "Nothing was concealed from her. 
 In every conference at which she was present her 
 discretion, her gentleness, her grace, and the ready 
 ingenuity of her delicate and cool intelligence were 
 of great service. She justified Bonaparte's renewed 
 confidence in her." 
 
 The 16th and 17th, Bonaparte and his adherents 
 completed the elaboration of their programme, which 
 was simple and ingenious. A provision of the Con- 
 stitution, that of the Year III., authorized the Coun- 
 cil of Ancients, in case of peril for the Republic, to
 
 268 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 convoke the Legislative Body (the Council of An- 
 cients and the Council of Five Hundred) outside of 
 the capital, to preserve it from the influence of the 
 multitude, and to choose a general to command the 
 troops destined to defend the legislature. The Con- 
 stitution also provided that from the moment when 
 this change of the place of meeting was voted by the 
 Council of Ancients, all discussion on the part of 
 the two councils was forbidden until the change was 
 made. This was the corner-stone on which the con- 
 spiracy was to build. The alleged public peril was 
 a so-called Jacobin conspiracy, which, according to 
 Bonaparte's partisans, threatened the Legislative 
 Body. The 18th Brumaire was set for the day when 
 the Council of Ancients should vote to change the 
 place of meeting to Saint Cloud, 'and Bonaparte 
 should be' assigned the command of the troops. The 
 Council was to be convoked at the Tuileries, where 
 it always met, at eight in the morning; some one 
 should take the floor and enlarge on the perils of the 
 so-called Jacobin plot, and, the vote to change the 
 place of meeting once carried, the Council of Five 
 Hundred, which did not meet till eleven, would have 
 to submit in silence. 
 
 But how collect the troops about Bonaparte in the 
 morning before the vote was taken? and to succeed, 
 he needed their presence at the very beginning. 
 
 The 17th Division, with its headquarters in Paris, 
 was not under his orders. He was not Minister of 
 War, and had no command. How was it possible,
 
 THE PROLOGUE OF THE 18TH BRUMAIRE. 269 
 
 without exciting suspicion, to assemble, under the 
 very eyes of the government, the forces that were 
 about to overthrow it? What pretext could be de- 
 vised for gathering a staff in the house in the rue de 
 la Victoire, and regiments about the Tuileries ? For 
 many days the officers of the Army of Paris and the 
 National Guard had been desirous of presenting their 
 respects to General Bonaparte. It was decided that 
 he should receive them at his house, at six in the 
 morning, the 18th Brumaire ; and this untimely hour 
 was accounted for by a journey on which it was 
 pretended that the general was about to depart. 
 Three regiments of cavalry had sought the honor of 
 riding by him. Word was sent that he would receive 
 them at seven o'clock in the morning of the same 
 day. To go from the rue de la Victoire to the 
 Tuileries he needed a cavalry escort ; word was sent 
 to one of his most devoted adherents, a Corsican, 
 Colonel Sdbastiani, who was invited to be on horse- 
 back at five in the morning, with two hundred dra- 
 goons of his regiment, the 9th. Sdbastiani, without 
 waiting for orders from his superiors, at once accepted 
 this mission. With a brilliant staff of generals and 
 mounted officers, preceded and followed by an escort 
 of dragoons, Bonaparte would ride in the morning to 
 i he Tuileries at the very moment that the change of 
 the place of meeting should have been voted by the 
 Council of Ancients ; he would receive command of 
 the garrison of Paris and its suburbs, and be onU-ivd 
 to protect the two Councils, who should sit the next
 
 270 CITIZENES8 BONAPARTE. 
 
 day, the 19th, at Saint Cloud. In the course of the 
 18th Barras would be persuaded to hand in his res- 
 ignation. This, following close on the heels of the 
 resignation of Sieve's and Roger-Ducos, would dis- 
 organize the Directory, which, consisting of but two 
 members, Moulins and Gohier, would be kept under 
 guard at the Luxembourg by General Moreau, and 
 would give way to a new government, which had its 
 constitution all ready, with Napoleon for its head. It 
 was hoped that the Council of Five Hundred would 
 not oppose their plans, and that the revolution, which 
 assumed an appearance of legality, would be accom- 
 plished without violence. In any case, Bonaparte 
 would go on to the end. If the Five Hundred re- 
 fused their approval, he resolved to proceed without 
 it. The snares were set. The legislature was to 
 fall into them. Every preparation had been made. 
 The conspirators bade one another farewell till the 
 morrow.
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 THE 18TH BRUMAIRE. 
 
 AT five in the morning, Sdbastiani, the colonel 
 of the 9th Dragoons, had occupied the garden 
 of the Tuileries and the Place de la Revolution with 
 eight hundred men. He himself had taken a place 
 with two hundred mounted dragoons before Bona- 
 parte's house in the rue de la Victoire. At six, 
 arrived Lefebvre, the commander of the military 
 division. Orders had been sent to different regi- 
 ments without saying anything to him, and he was 
 surprised to see S^bastiani's dragoons, but Bonaparte 
 was in no way disconcerted. " Here," he said, " is 
 the Turkish sabre which I carried at the battle of the 
 Pyramids. Do you, who are one of the most valiant 
 defenders of the country, accept it ? Will you let our 
 country perish in the hands of the pettifoggers who 
 are ruining it ? " Lefebvre, wild with joy, exclaimed, 
 " If that's what's up, I am ready. We must throw 
 those pettifoggers into the river at once." The house 
 and garden were speedily rilled with officers in full 
 uniform. Only one was in citizen's dress ; it uas 
 Beruadotte. Resisting Bonaparte's offers, he said,
 
 272 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 " No ! no ! you will fail. I am going away where 
 perhaps I shall be able to save you." 
 
 Eight o'clock struck; a woman entered; it was 
 Madame Gohier, wife of the President of the Direc- 
 tory. The evening before, her husband had received 
 this note, brought by Eugene de Beauharnais : 
 
 " 17th Brumaire, Year VIII. 
 
 "Mr DEAR GOHIER: Won't you and your wife 
 breakfast with us to-morrow at eight. Do not fail 
 us ; there are a good many interesting things I should 
 like to talk to you about. Good by, my dear Gohier. 
 " Believe me always 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " LA PAGERIE-BONAPARTE." 
 
 The early hour aroused Gohier's suspicions. He 
 told his wife : " You will go ; but you must tell 
 Madame Bonaparte that I can't accept her invita- 
 tion, but that I shall have the honor of seeing her 
 in the course of the morning." 
 
 When Bonaparte saw Madame Gohier arrive alone, 
 he frowned. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, " isn't the President com- 
 ing?" 
 
 " No, General, he couldn't possibly come." 
 
 " But he must corne. Write him a line, Madame, 
 and I will see that the note is sent." 
 
 " I will write to him, General, but I have servants 
 here who will take charge of the letter."
 
 THE 18TH BRUMAIRE. 273 
 
 Madame Gohier took a pen and wrote to her hus- 
 band as follows : 
 
 " You did well not to come, my dear : everything 
 convinces me that the invitation was a snare. I shall 
 come to you as soon as possible/' 
 
 When Madame Gohier had sent this note, Madame 
 Bonaparte came to her, and said : " Everything you 
 see must indicate to you, Madame, what has got to 
 happen. I can't tell you how sorry I am that Gohier 
 did not accept the invitation which I had planned 
 with Bonaparte, who wants the President of the 
 Directory to be one of the members of the govern- 
 ment which he proposes to establish. By sending 
 my son with the note, I thought that I indicated the 
 importance I attached to it." 
 
 " I am going to join him, Madame ; my presence is 
 superfluous here." 
 
 " I shall not detain you. When you see your hus- 
 band, bid him reflect, and do you yourself reflect on 
 the wish I have been authorized to express to you. . . . 
 Use all your influence, I beg of you, to induce him to 
 come." 
 
 Madame Gohier returned to the Luxembourg, leav- 
 ing Bonaparte amid the officers of all grades who 
 were to help him in the coup d'ttat. 
 
 What was going on at the Tuileries meanwhile? 
 The Council of Ancients met at eight o'clock. Cor- 
 net took the floor, and began to speak about con- 
 spiracy, daggers, Terrorists. "If the Council of 
 Ancients does not protect the country and liberty
 
 274 CITIZEN ESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 from the greatest dangers that have ever threatened 
 it, the fire will spread. ... It will be impossible to 
 stop its devouring progress. The country will be 
 consumed. . . . Representatives of the people, ward 
 off this dreadful conflagration, or the Republic will 
 cease to exist, and its skeleton will be in the talons 
 of vultures who will dispute its fleshless limbs ! " 
 
 This declamatory outburst produced a distinct 
 effect. The Council of Ancients, in accordance with 
 articles of the Constitution authorizing, in case of 
 public peril, a change in the place of meeting of the 
 Legislative Body, passed the following votes : 
 
 " Article 1. The Legislative Body is transferred to 
 the Commune of Saint Cloud ; the two Councils will 
 sit there in the two wings of the palace. 
 
 "Article 2. They will meet there at noon to- 
 morrow, the 19th Brumaire. All official acts and 
 deliberations are forbidden at any place, before that 
 hour. 
 
 " Article 3. General Bonaparte is charged with 
 the execution of this decree. . . . The general com- 
 manding the 17th military division, the Guard of the 
 Legislative Body, the stationary National Guard, the 
 troops of the line now in the Commune of Paris, are 
 hereby placed under his orders. 
 
 "Article 4. General Bonaparte is summoned to 
 the Council to receive a copy of this decree and to 
 take oath accordingly." 
 
 Scarcely had the vote been taken when Cornet has- 
 tened off to tell Bonaparte in the rue de la Victoire.
 
 THE 18 TH B SUM AIR E. 275 
 
 It was about nine o'clock. The general was address- 
 ing his officers from the steps of his house, "The 
 Republic is in danger; we must come to its aid." 
 After he had read the vote of the Ancients, he 
 shouted, " Can I depend on you to save the Repub- 
 lic?" Cheers were their answer. Then he got on 
 his horse, and, followed by a brilliant escort, among 
 whom were noticed Moreau, Macdonald, Lefebvre, 
 Berthier, Lannes, Beurnonville, Marmont, Murat, he 
 rode to the Tuileries. Se'bastiaui's dragoons opened 
 and closed the way. 
 
 There were but few people about the Tuileries, for 
 most had no idea of what was going to happen. The 
 gates of the garden, which was full of troops, were 
 closed. The weather was very fine ; the sun lit up 
 the helmets and bayonets. Bonaparte rode through 
 the garden, and, alighting in front of the Pavilion 
 of the Clock, appeared bqfore the Council of An- 
 cients, the door being opened to him. 
 
 " Citizen Representatives," he said, " the Republic 
 was about to perish ; your vote has saved it ! Woe to 
 those who dare to oppose its execution ! Aided by 
 my comrades, I shall know how to resist their efforts. 
 It is vain that precedents are sought in the past to dis- 
 turb your minds. There is in all history nothing like 
 the eighteenth century, and nothing in the cenlui y is 
 like its end. We desire the Republic ; we desire it 
 founded on true liberty, on the representative system. 
 We shall have it ; I swear this in my own name and 
 in that of my fellow-soldiers."
 
 276 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 Only one deputy observed that in this oath no 
 mention was made of the Constitution. The Presi- 
 dent, wishing- to spare Bonaparte too open perjury, 
 silenced him and closed the meeting. 
 
 Bonaparte went down into the garden again and 
 reviewed the troops, who cheered him warmly. 
 
 It was eleven o'clock, the hour set for the meeting 
 of the Council of Five Hundred. The Deputies heard 
 with indignation the vote of the Ancients, but their 
 President, Lucien Bonaparte, silenced them. The 
 Constitution was imperative ; all discussion was for- 
 bidden. They had nothing to do but to agree to 
 meet at Saint Cloud the next day. 
 
 Of the five Directors, two, Sieye"s and Roger-Ducos, 
 had already handed in their resignations ; the third, 
 Barras, at the request of Bruix and Talleyrand, had 
 just followed their example, and had started for his 
 estate, Grosbois ; the other two, Gohier and Moulins, 
 made one final effort. They went to the Tuileries, 
 and found Bonaparte in the hall of the Inspectors of 
 the Council of Ancients. After a lively altercation, 
 they returned to the Luxembourg, having accom- 
 plished nothing. 
 
 A few moments before, Bonaparte had spoken thus 
 to Bottot, Barras's secretary : " What have you done 
 with this France that I left so full of glory ? I left 
 peace ; I find war ! I left you victorious ; I find you 
 in defeat! I left you the millions of Italy; I find 
 everywhere ruinous laws and misery! . . . What 
 have you done with the hundred thousand Frenchmen
 
 THE 18TH BRUMAIRE. 277 
 
 whom I knew, the companions of my glory ? They 
 are dead ! This state of things cannot last. In three 
 years it would lead to despotism." 
 
 In her Considerations on the French Revolution, 
 Madame de Stael says : " Bonaparte worked to make 
 his predictions true. Would it not be a great lesson 
 for the human race, if these Directors were to rise 
 from their graves and demand of Napoleon an account 
 for the boundary of the Rhine and the Alps which the 
 Republic had conquered, an account for the foreigner 
 who twice entered Paris, and for the Frenchmen who 
 perished from Cadiz to Moscow?" 
 
 But who on the 18th Brumaire could predict these 
 future disasters ? Bonaparte's soldiers imagined them- 
 selves forever invincible. The military spirit was 
 triumphant. No more red caps, but the grenadiers' 
 hats ; no more pikes, but bayonets. The Jacobins had 
 lived their day. The furious diatribes of the Club 
 du Mandge called forth no echo. The terrible San- 
 terre was a mere harmless brewer. The faubourgs had 
 grown calm. The roll of the drum had silenced the 
 voice of the tribunes. Even the men of the old 
 regime were fascinated by the career of arms. This 
 is what a young aristocrat said, who was one day to 
 be General de Se*gur, the historian of the exploits of 
 the grand army : 
 
 "It was the very moment when Napoleon, sum- 
 moned by the Council of Ancients, began in the Tui- 
 leries the revolution of the 18th Brumaire and was 
 haranguing the garrison of Paris to secure it against
 
 278 CITIZENES8 BONAPARTE. 
 
 the other Council. The garden gate stopped me. I 
 leaned against it, and gazed on the memorable scene. 
 Then I ran around the enclosure, trying every en- 
 trance; at last I reached the gate near the draw- 
 bridge, and saw it open. A regiment of dragoons 
 came out, the 9th ; they started for Saint Cloud, with 
 their overcoats rolled up, helmets on their heads, 
 sabres in hand, and with the warlike excitement, the 
 fierce and determined air of soldiers advancing on 
 the enemy to conquer or die. At this sight, all the 
 soldier's blood I had inherited from all my ancestors 
 boiled in my veins. My career was determined. 
 From that moment I was a soldier; I thought of 
 nothing but battles, and despised every other career." 
 Madame de Stael records that on the 18th Bru- 
 maire she happened to arrive in Paris from Switzer- 
 land. When changing horses at some leagues from 
 the city, she heard that the Director Barras had just 
 passed by, escorted by gens d'armes. " The postilions," 
 she goes on, "gave us the news of the day, and this 
 way of hearing it made it only more vivid. It was 
 the first time since the Revolution that one man's 
 name was in every mouth. Previously they had said : 
 The Constituent Assembly has done this, or the 
 people, or the Convention ; now nothing was spoken 
 of but this man who was going to take the place of 
 all. That evening the city was excited with expec- 
 tation of the morrow, and doubtless the majority of 
 peaceful citizens, fearing the return of the Jacobins, 
 then desired that General Bonaparte should succeed.
 
 THE 18 TH BRUMAIBE. 279 
 
 My feelings, I must say, were mixed. When the 
 fight had once begun, a momentary victory of the 
 Jacobins might be the signal for bloodshed; but 
 nevertheless the thought of Bonaparte's triumph filled 
 me with a pain that might be called prophetic." 
 
 He himself, well contented with his day, returned 
 to his house in the rue de la Victoire, where he found 
 Josephine happy and confident. All the military 
 preparations were complete : Moreau occupied the 
 Luxembourg. Lannes, the Tuileries ; SeYurier, the 
 Point du Jour; Murat, the palace of Saint Cloud. 
 Bonaparte fell asleep as calmly as on the eve of a 
 great battle.
 
 XXIX. 
 
 THE 19TH BRUMAIKE. 
 
 r I 1HE revolution which Bonaparte effected is 
 _l_ called the 18th Brumaire, yet in fact the 18th 
 Brumaire was a mere prelude ; the decisive day was 
 the 19th. On the 18th respect was paid to the law; 
 on the 19th the law was violated, and for that reason 
 the conqueror, desiring to excuse himself before his- 
 tory, chose the 18th as the official date of the revo- 
 lution. 
 
 The night passed quietly; the faubourgs did not 
 dare to rise. The people of Paris looked on what 
 was happening as if it were an interesting play which 
 aroused no emotion or wrath. 
 
 The morning of the 19th saw the road from Paris 
 to Saint Cloud crowded with troops, carriages, and a 
 throng full of curiosity. Bonaparte's success was 
 predicted, but the issue was not yet certain, and thus 
 the public interest was all the more excited. It had 
 been decided that both Councils should meet at 
 noon. The Representatives were punctual, and a 
 little before twelve o'clock Bonaparte was on horse- 
 back, opposite the palace of Saint Cloud, at the head
 
 THE WTH BRUMAIRE. 281 
 
 of his troops. The Ancients were to meet on the 
 first floor in the Gallery of Apollo, full of Mignard's 
 decorations, and the Five Hundred in the orange 
 house; but the preparations were not completed at 
 the appointed hour, and it was not till two that the 
 sessions began. While waiting, the deputies strolled 
 in the park. It was evident that the Five Hundred 
 were distinctly unfavorable to Bonaparte. He, much 
 annoyed by the delay, kept going and coming, giving 
 repeated orders, betraying the utmost impatience. 
 
 At two, the sessions of the Councils were opened. 
 That of the Ancients began with unimportant pre- 
 liminaries ; that of the Five Hundred, with an 
 outbreak of passion. Lucien Bonaparte presided. 
 Gardin proposed that a committee of seven be ap- 
 pointed to make a report on the measures to be taken 
 in behalf of the public safety. Hostile murmurs 
 made themselves heard. Delbel called out from his 
 seat : " The Constitution before everything ! The 
 Constitution or death ! Bayonets do not frighten 
 us ; we are free here ! " A formidable clamor arose : 
 " No dictatorship ! Down with dictators!" Grand- 
 maison moved that all the members of the Council of 
 Five Hundred should be at once compelled to renew 
 their oath of fidelity to the Constitution of the Year 
 III. The motion was carried amid great enthusiasm. 
 The roll was called for each member to swear in 
 turn. Lucien Bonaparte himself swore fidelity to 
 the Constitution which lie was about to destroy. 
 
 A letter was brought from Barms. Amid general
 
 282 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 excitement, the secretary read aloud this letter, in 
 which the Director announced his resignation ; it 
 ended thus : " The glory Avhich accompanies the 
 return of the illustrious warrior, for whom I had the 
 honor of opening the way, the distinct marks of the 
 confidence accorded him by the Legislative Body, and 
 the decree of the National Representatives, have con- 
 vinced me that whatever may be the part to which 
 the public interests henceforth may summon me, the 
 dangers to liberty are surmounted and the interests 
 of the army guaranteed. I return with joy to the 
 ranks of private citizens, happy, after so many storms, 
 to restore, uninjured and more deserving of respect 
 than ever, the destinies of the Republic of which I 
 have had in part the care." 
 
 This letter produced a feeling of angry surprise. 
 Of the five Directors, three had resigned. The 
 government was dissolved. Resistance to Bonaparte 
 had nothing to stand on. Grandmaison said from 
 the tribune : " First of all, we must know whether 
 the resignation of Barras is not the result of the ex- 
 traordinary circumstances in which we are placed. 
 I think that among the members present there are 
 some who know where we came from and whither 
 we are going." 
 
 While the session of the Five Hundred began 
 thus, what had been taking place among the An- 
 cients ? Bonaparte had just made his appearance 
 there and had spoken as a master. " Citizen Rep- 
 resentatives," he had said, "you are not now in
 
 THE 19TH BRUMAIRE. 283 
 
 ordinary conditions, but on the edge of a volcano. 
 Already I and my fellow-soldiers are overwhelmed 
 with abuse. People are talking of a new Cromwell, 
 a new Caesar. If I had desired to play such a part, 
 I could easily have taken it when I returned from 
 Italy. . . . Let us save the two things for which we 
 have made so many sacrifices, liberty and equality." 
 And when a deputy interrupted with, " Speak about 
 the Constitution," he answered : " The Constitution? 
 you no longer have one. It is you who destroyed it 
 by attacking, on the 18th Fructidor, the national rep- 
 resentation ; by annulling, on the 22d Flore*al, the 
 popular elections ; by assaulting the independence of 
 the government. All parties have striven to destroy 
 this constitution of which you speak. They have all 
 come to me to confide their plans and to induce me 
 to aid them. I have refused ; but if it is necessary, 
 I will name the parties and the men." Then he men- 
 tioned Barras ; then the name of Moulins escaped 
 him, but stormy contradictions followed this inexact 
 statement. 
 
 Bonaparte, who was rather a man of action tluin 
 a debater, was for a moment disconcerted. The tu- 
 mult was growing; but be, abandoning persuasion, 
 resorted to threats. Assuming the air of a protector 
 who makes himself feared by those he guards, he 
 said: "Surrounded by my companions in arms, I 
 shall know how to aid you. I call to witness these 
 brave grenadiers whose bayonets I see, and whom I 
 have so often led against the enemy. If any orator,
 
 284 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 in the pay of foreigners, should speak of outlawing 
 me, I shall summon my companions in arms. Re- 
 member that I march In the company of the God of 
 fortune and of war." The Council of Ancients re- 
 plied to this stormy outbreak by respectfully accord- 
 ing to Bonaparte the honors of the meeting, and he 
 left the hall and returned to his soldiers : he had a 
 note taken to Josephine in which Ije told her to be 
 calm, that all was going on well. 
 
 At the same time he heard of the outburst of pas- 
 sion in the Council of Five Hundred. Thereupon 
 he ordered a company of grenadiers to follow him, 
 and leaving it at the door of the Chamber, he crossed 
 the threshold and stepped forward alone, hat in 
 hand. It was just when Grandmaison was in the 
 tribune speaking about Barras's letter. It was five in 
 the afternoon ; the lamps were lit. At the sight of 
 Bonaparte the Five Hundred uttered a long cry of 
 indignation : " Down with the Dictator ! Down with 
 the tyrant ! " They all rushed to meet the general, 
 crowding him and denouncing him ; they forced him 
 several steps back. Many brandished daggers and 
 threatened his life. It was, he said later, the most 
 perilous moment of his life. He was saved by Beau- 
 vais, a Norman deputy of enormous strength, who 
 drove back his assailants and brought him to his 
 soldiers, who were hastening to his aid. One of the 
 soldiers, Grenadier Thomd, had his clothes cut by a 
 dagger. The tumult was indescribable ; the orange 
 house was like a battle-field.
 
 THE 10TH BRUMAIRE. 285 
 
 It was in vain that Lucien tried to support his 
 brother. Cries arose: "Outlaw him. Down with 
 Bonaparte and his accomplices ! " His desk was over- 
 run. " March, President," said a deputy ; " put to 
 vote the proposition to outlaw him." 
 
 Lucien descended the steps, denounced on every 
 side. " Go back to your place ! Don't make us lose 
 time ! Put to vote the outlawry of the dictator I " 
 " Tell my brother, " he said " that I have been driven 
 from my chair. Ask him for an armed force to pro- 
 tect my departure." Fre*geville ran to inform Gen- 
 eral Bonaparte, who had just left the orange house, 
 under the guard of his soldiers, and had got on his 
 horse, telling the soldiers that he narrowly escaped 
 assassination. The troops cheered their general and 
 brandished their weapons. He had but a word to 
 say, and the Five Hundred would be dispersed, but 
 this word he hesitated to utter. He, who knew no 
 fear, became confused, like Caesar, as Lucan describes 
 him, undecided at the Rubicon. 
 
 Meanwhile the tumult in the orange house was be- 
 coming more intense. After two speeches, one from 
 Bertrand of Calvados, the other from Talet, both hos- 
 tile to Bonaparte, Lucien began to speak: "I do not 
 rise," he said, "to make direct opposition to the 
 motion [of outlawing Bonaparte] ; but it is a proper 
 moment to remind the Council that the suspicions 
 which have been brought up so lightly have pro- 
 duced lamentable excesses. Can even an illegal step 
 make us forget such noble deeds and important ser-
 
 286 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 vice in behalf of the country ! " Lucien was inter- 
 rupted by continual murmurs. There were cries, 
 " Time is flying ; put the motion ! " " No," resumed 
 Lucien, "you cannot vote such a measure without 
 hearing the General ; I ask that he be called to the 
 bar. . . . These unseasonable interruptions which 
 drown the voice of your colleagues are indecent. 
 They continue and become more violent. Then I 
 shall not insist. When order is once more estab- 
 lished, and your extraordinary indecorum has ceased, 
 you will yourselves render justice where it is due, 
 without passion." 
 
 The uproar became so violent that Lucien could 
 not face the storm ; so taking off his toga, and laying 
 it on the tribune, he said : " Liberty no longer exists 
 here. Since I have no means of making myself 
 heard, you will at least see your President, in token 
 of public grief, placing here the insignia of the pub- 
 lic magistracy." 
 
 " It is a lamentable thing," says Edgar Quinet, in 
 his Revolution, "that this last Assembly, already 
 threatened, surrounded, denounced, with swords at 
 its throat, should have no other defence against the 
 soldiers' arms than such blunt weapons, a con- 
 science, new oaths, a roll-call, promises to die, up- 
 roar, and the vain protests with which an Assembly, 
 deserted by the nation at the hour of peril, deceives 
 despair and amuses its last hour. Then were there 
 moments of indescribable anxiety, when history lay 
 in the balance between two opposing destinies, liberty
 
 THE 19TH BRUMAIRE. 287 
 
 knowing no way in which to save itself, and the 
 general, averse to putting an end to the complica- 
 tions, not daring to make a violent usurpation." 
 
 After he had placed his toga on the edge of the 
 tribune, Lucien ceased speaking. He saw the com- 
 pany of grenadiers which he had asked of his brother. 
 To the officer in command, who said, " Citizen Presi- 
 dent, we are here by the General's orders," he re- 
 plied in a loud voice, " We will follow you ; open a 
 passage." Then turning to the Vice-President, he 
 made a sign to him to close the meeting. Leaving 
 the orange house, he hastened to the courtyard, 
 where he found his brother motionless and silent, on 
 horseback, surrounded by his soldiers. " Give me a 
 horse," he shouted, " and sound the drums ! " In a 
 moment he was on the horse of one of the dragoons, 
 and after a roll of the drums, which was followed by 
 profound silence : " Citizen soldiers," he said angrily, 
 " I announce to you that the vast majority of this 
 Council is at this moment intimidated by a few 
 representatives armed with daggers. The brigands, 
 doubtless in English pay, desire to outlaw your 
 general ! Being entrusted with the execution of the 
 vote of the Ancients, against which they are in re- 
 volt, I appeal to the military. Citizen soldiers, save 
 the representatives of the people from the represen- 
 tatives of daggers, and let the majority of the Council 
 be delivered from the stiletto by bayonets ! Long 
 live the Republic!" To this cry the soldiers an-
 
 288 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 swered with "Long live Bonaparte!" And Lucien, 
 waving a sword, cried out, " I swear with this sword 
 to stab my own brother, if he ever does violence to 
 the liberty of the French ! " The general hesitated 
 no longer. He ordered the grenadiers commanded 
 by Murat and Leclerc to enter the Chamber of the 
 Five Hundred. The drums were beaten ; their roar 
 drowned the voices of the representatives of the 
 people, as they had drowned the voice of Louis XVI. 
 In a moment the hall was empty, the deputies having 
 fled through the windows of the orange house into 
 the garden. Only one clung to his seat, saying he 
 wished to die there. They laughed at him, and at 
 last he took flight like the rest. 
 
 In Paris news was impatiently awaited. At one 
 moment the rumor ran that Bonaparte was proscribed 
 and outlawed ; the next, that he was victorious and 
 had expelled the Five Hundred. It is thus that Ma- 
 dame de Stael describes her different impressions 
 during this agitated day : " One of my friends who 
 was present at the sitting in Saint Cloud sent me 
 bulletins every hour. Once he told me the Jacobins 
 were going to carry everything before them, and I 
 made ready to leave France again ; the next moment 
 I heard that Bonaparte had triumphed, the soldiers 
 having expelled the National Representatives, and I 
 wept, not over liberty, which never existed in France, 
 but over the hope of that liberty without which a 
 country knows only shame and misery."
 
 THE 19TH BRUMAIliE. 289 
 
 All day Madame Bonaparte, the general's mother, 
 had been very anxious, though outwardly calm. 
 Three of her children were engaged in the struggle, 
 and in case of Napoleon's failure, all three would 
 be severely punished. Nevertheless, with her usual 
 energy, she concealed her emotions. In the evening, 
 when the definite result was still unknown, she was 
 yet courageous enough to go with her daughters to 
 the The'&tre Feydeau, the fashionable theatre, where 
 the Auteur dans son manage was given. In the 
 course of the play some one stepped forward on 
 the stage, and shouted out, " Citizens, General Bona- 
 parte has just escaped being assassinated at Saint 
 Cloud by traitors to this country ! " Madame Leclerc 
 screamed with terror. It was half-past nine o'clock. 
 Then Madame Bonaparte and her daughters left the 
 theatre and hastened to the rue de la Victoire, where 
 they found Josephine, who reassured them. 
 
 The Bonaparte family had nothing more to fear. 
 All resistance was impossible at Paris or at Saint 
 Cloud. The soldiers of the man who was about to 
 be the First Consul camped that night on the battle- 
 field. At eleven o'clock he summoned his secretary : 
 " I want the whole town, when it wakes up to-morrow, 
 to think of nothing but me. Write ! " And he 
 dictated one of those showy proclamations which he 
 knew so well how to compose for an effect upon the 
 masses. He gave to the coup d'Stat a false appear- 
 ance of legality. The two Councils had just met for
 
 290 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 a night session. Most of the Five Hundred were 
 absent. But it made no difference ; the minority was 
 to be taken for a majority. Bonaparte, Sieyes, and 
 Roger-Ducos were appointed consuls and were en- 
 trusted with the preparations of a new constitution, 
 aided by two legislative commissions. Sixty-one 
 deputies of the Five Hundred, guilty of having 
 wished to make the law respected, were declared in- 
 capable for the future of serving as representatives. 
 Lucien ended the night session with this speech: 
 " French liberty was born in the tennis-court of 
 Versailles. Since that immortal meeting it has 
 dragged itself along till our time, the prey in turn of 
 the inconsistency, the weakness, and the convulsive 
 ailments of infancy. To-day it has assumed its manly 
 robes. No sooner have you established it on the love 
 and confidence of the French than the smile of peace 
 and abundance shine on its lips. Representatives of 
 the people, listen to the blessing of the people and of 
 its armies, long the plaything of factions, and may 
 their shouts reach the depths of your hearts ! Listen 
 also to the sublime voice of posterity ! If liberty 
 was born at the tennis-court of Versailles, it has been 
 consolidated in the orange house of Saint Cloud. 
 The Constituents of '89 were the fathers of the 
 Revolution, but the legislators of the Year VIII. will 
 be the fathers and peacemakers of the country." 
 There is nothing in the world easier than to set what 
 has succeeded in brilliant colors. In Brumaire, as
 
 THE 19TH BRUMAUtE. 201 
 
 in Fructidor, might had overcome right., and niiglit 
 never lacks worshippers. All was over ; the game had 
 been won. At three in the morning Bonaparte got 
 into his carriage and drove back from Saint Cloud to 
 Paris, where the inhabitants had illuminated their 
 houses, in celebration of his illegal victory.
 
 XXX. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 IpONAPARTE returned from Saint Cloud to 
 i ) Paris, between three and four in the morning, 
 having in the carriage with him his brother Lticien, 
 Sieve's, and General Gardanne. All the way he was 
 absorbed, thoughtful, silent. Was it physical and 
 moral fatigue following so many emotions? Was it 
 a presentiment of the future, the thought of his fu- 
 ture deeds, which were busying the imagination of this 
 great historical character? What reflections he must 
 have made on the turns of fortune ! Had he been 
 beaten, he would have been outlawed ; as the con- 
 queror, he knew no law but his own will. Beaten, he 
 would have been an apostate, a renegade, a wretch ; 
 his laurels would have been dragged in the dust, and 
 he himself would have been carted to the gibbet. As 
 conqueror, he was to ascend the steps to the capitol, 
 swearing that he was his country's saviour. Con- 
 quered, he would have been a vile Corsican, unworthy 
 the name of Frenchman. As conqueror, he was the 
 man of destiny, the protecting genius. Instead of 
 abuse, he was to hear songs of praise, and to see the 
 
 292
 
 EPILOGUE. 293 
 
 old parties laying down their arras; young Royalists 
 enthusiastically joining him under the tricolored flag ; 
 the army and populace rending the air with their 
 cheers ; priests singing hymns ; in the forum, the 
 camp, the churches, he was to find everywhere the 
 same outburst of joy. Yet those who make the coup 
 cCStat know very well that the ovations which greet 
 them depend solely on their success, and that their 
 success depends on the merest trifles. Succeed, and 
 you are a hero; fail, and you are a traitor. How 
 ridiculous is human judgment, how vain and uncer- 
 tain the verdict of history ! Posterity, like universal 
 suffrage, is forever altering its judgment. What is 
 truth one year is false the next. The voice of the 
 people is not the voice of God. 
 
 Bonaparte was back in the house in the rue de la 
 Victoire, which had always brought him happiness, 
 where he was married, whence he started for Italy 
 and Egypt, whither he always returned victorious, 
 and where two days before he had felt confident of 
 the success of the coup d'Stat, the origin of his su- 
 preme power. He kissed Josephine tenderly and told 
 her all the incidents of the day, passing rapidly over 
 the danger he had been through in the orange house, 
 and jesting about the embarrassment which he, a 
 man of action, felt when compelled to speak. Then 
 he rested a few hours, and woke up in the morning, 
 the master of Paris and of France. 
 
 Fate had spoken. Who could resist the man with 
 whom marched " the God of fortune and of war " ?
 
 294 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 This is what is said by Edgar Quinet, the great dem- 
 ocratic writer, who describes the passive adhesion of 
 the whole people : " This was, I imagine, the greatest 
 grief of the last representatives of liberty in France ; 
 after which all grief is but a jest. They imagined 
 that they were followed by people whose souls they 
 owned. For many days they were going here and 
 there, peering into the cross-ways and public places. 
 Where were the magnificent orators at the bar of the 
 old assemblies ? Where the forests of pikes so often 
 uplifted, and the repeated oaths of fourteen years, 
 and the magnanimous nation which the mere shade 
 of a master had so often driven wild with anger? 
 Where was their pride? Where the Roman indigna- 
 tion? How could those great hearts have fallen in 
 so few years ? No echo answered. The Five Hun- 
 dred found only astonished faces, sudden conversions 
 to force, incredulity, and silence. All was dissipated 
 in a moment ; they themselves seemed to be pursuing 
 a vision." 
 
 The time was drawing nigh when republican sim- 
 plicity was to give way to the formal and refined 
 etiquette of a monarchy ; when the woman who lan- 
 guished in the prison of the Carmes, under the Terror, 
 was to be surrounded with the pomp and splendor of 
 an Asiatic queen; when Lucien Bonaparte was to 
 congratulate himself, as he said, that " he had not got 
 into the crowd of princes and princesses who were 
 taken in tow by all the renegades of the Republic." 
 For, he goes on, " who knows whether the example
 
 EPILOGUE. 295 
 
 of all these apostasies might not have perverted my 
 political and philosophic sentiments?" 
 
 The more one studies history, the more depressing 
 it is. The illusions in which peoples indulge call 
 forth a smile illusions about liberty, about absolut- 
 ism. Every government thinks itself immortal ; not 
 one, before its fall, sees the abyss yawning before it. 
 If we compare the results and the efforts, we can only 
 lament the vicious circle in which unhappy humanity 
 forever turns. What would Bonaparte have said, 
 what his admirers and officers, if any one had an- 
 nounced to them what the end of their epoch would 
 be? And what did the Republicans, formerly so 
 haughty and arrogant, think of their change of 
 heart? France has paid a high price for these inces- 
 sant apostasies. By dint of burning what she has 
 adored, and adoring what she has burned, she has be- 
 come distrustful of her own glories, ready to destroy 
 the most illustrious legends of centuries, to scoff at 
 royalty, imperialism, and the republic in turn, and 
 to get rid of ideas, enthusiasms, and principles as 
 readily as an actress gets rid of a worn dress. 
 
 It was done. Josephine had a new position. She 
 was no more to be called Citizeness Bonaparte, but 
 Madame, like the ladies of the old regime, until she 
 should bear the title of Empress and Your Majesty. 
 The Republic existed only in name ; its institutions 
 were gone. One man alone was left: Bonaparte as First 
 Consul was more than a constitutional sovereign, and 
 many queens possess less influence and prestige than
 
 296 CITIZENESS BONAPARTE. 
 
 did his wife. Yet on the whole, the really republican 
 period of their lives was the happiest portion. Before 
 Brumaire Bonaparte counted for a soldier of liberty, 
 and his wife was deemed a truly patriotic woman. 
 All that time, she had served the interests of her am- 
 bitious husband with great intelligence. Without 
 her he would hardly have attained such wonderful 
 results. She it was who secured for him the support 
 of Barras, and had him made, when but twenty-six, 
 the commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy ; at 
 Milan she was as useful to him as in Paris, by concil- 
 iating aristocratic society in both cities ; during the 
 Directory, she allayed the jealousy of the Directory, 
 and made herself welcome to both Royalists and 
 Republicans ; on the morning of the 18th Brumaire, 
 she covered his sword with flowers, and in her per- 
 fumed note laid a snare for Gohier. The movement 
 was irresistible ; Madame Bonaparte's smiles com- 
 pleted her husband's work. 
 
 After the 18th Brumaire Lucien still nourished 
 liberal hopes, like Daunou, Cabanis, Grdgoire, Carnot, 
 and Lafayette. He was sure that the Republic 
 would never turn into a monarchy, and sincerely 
 believed that he had saved liberty. Later, he said at 
 Saint Cyr to General Gouvion : "Will you not 
 acknowledge, dear General, that you knew this sol- 
 dier, once your equal, now your Emperor, when he 
 was a sincere and ardent Republican ? No, you will 
 say, he deceived us by false appearances. Well, for 
 my part, I will say that he deceived himself ; for a
 
 EPILOGUE. 297 
 
 long time General Bonaparte was a Republican like 
 you or me. He served the Republic of the Conven- 
 tion with all the ardor which you saw, and as you 
 would not, perhaps, have dared to do yourself in such 
 a land, amid such a population. . . . The indepen- 
 dent character of the sturdy mountaineers among 
 whom we were born taught him to respect human 
 dignity ; and it was only when the temporary consul- 
 ship was succeeded by the consulate for life, when a 
 sort of court grew up at the Tuileries, and Madame 
 Bonaparte was surrounded by prefects and ladies-in- 
 waiting, that any change could be detected in the 
 master's mind, and that he proceeded to treat every- 
 body as everybody desired to be treated." 
 
 It was possibly in spite of himself that Napoleon 
 became a Caesar. The evening of the 18th Brumaire 
 he still hoped to secure the consent of the two Coun- 
 cils and to avoid all illegality. Who knows ? If 
 the Directors had consented to lower the limit of age, 
 and to receive him as a colleague, although he was 
 not yet thirty, and the Constitution required that the 
 Directors should be forty years old, the coup d^tat 
 might never have happened. On what things the 
 fate of republics and empires depends ! 
 
 At first, Bonaparte was a Republican, and Jose- 
 phine a Legitimist. As Emperor and Empress they 
 became Imperialists. But royal splendors cannot 
 make us forget the Republican period. The modest 
 uniform of the hero of Arcole was perhaps preferred 
 to the gorgeous coronation robes, and more than
 
 298 CIT1ZENESS BONAPARIE. 
 
 once, beneath the golden hangings of the Imperial 
 palaces, Josephine regretted the modest house in the 
 rue de la Victoire, the sanctuary of her love. The 
 bright sun of the South could not make her forget the 
 first rays of dawn. Like France, she lost in liberty 
 what she gained in grandeur. A life of almost 
 absolute independence was followed by all the slavery 
 of the highest rank. She was already a queen except 
 in name. When she left her little house in the rue 
 de la Victoire a few days after the 18th Brumaire, 
 it was to take up her quarters in the Luxembourg. 
 But the residence of Maria de' Medici was not large 
 enough for the First Consul and Madame Bonaparte. 
 They went in a few days to take the place in the 
 Tuileries of the King and Queen of France, and 
 Lucien, the unwitting promoter of the Empire, was 
 to regret, as he put it, " that the Constitution of the 
 Consular Republic could have been so readily sacri- 
 ficed to what may be called the personification of the 
 monarchical power, which in the person of the unfor- 
 tunate Louis XVI., the best-meaning of sovereigns, 
 had been so barbarously destroyed." Madame Bona- 
 parte was to be compelled to part company with Ma- 
 dame Tallien and several of her best friends of the soci- 
 ety of the Directory. Even the name of Barras, once 
 so powerful, now obscure and forgotten in his estate of 
 Grosbois, was never to be uttered. Bonaparte could 
 not bear to be reminded that once he had been de- 
 pendent on that man. Already the herd of flatterers, 
 who were to form the consular court, had begun to
 
 EPILOGUE. 299 
 
 gather. The ideas and fashions of the past were 
 about to reappear. Many Republican innovations did 
 not outlaw the new almanac. A dead society came 
 back to life. Madame Bonaparte appeared what she 
 was in fact, though not to a careless observer, a 
 woman of the old regime. The Tuileries were not far 
 from the Faubourg Saint Germain. But for all her 
 success, her wealth, her greatness, Josephine could 
 not recall the days of the Republic without emotion. 
 Then she was young ; and nothing can take the place 
 of youth. Then she was powerful ; and is not hope 
 always sweeter than the reality ? Then she was 
 beautiful ; and for a woman is not beauty the only 
 true power ? Then she was worshipped by her hus- 
 band, and to appear charming in his eyes she did not 
 need the splendor of the throne. In her plain dress 
 of white muslin and a white flower in her hair, she 
 seemed to him more beautiful than in her coronation 
 robes of silver brocade covered with pink bees, and 
 her crown sparkling with gems. She had no equer- 
 ries, chamberlains, or maids of honor ; but her youth 
 adorned her more than a diadem. As Empress and 
 Queen, Josephine was doubtless to regret the time 
 \\ hen in a Republican society she bore no other title 
 than that of Citizeness Bonaparte.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Aboukir, the battle of, 242. 
 
 Abrautes, Duchess of, her account 
 of the reception of the captured 
 battle-flags, 15 ; describes the 
 conduct of Madame de Damas 
 to Josephine, 223. 
 
 Abrantes, Duke of, 91; see Junot. 
 
 Aides-de-camp of Bonaparte in 
 Egypt, 240. 
 
 Alvinzy, advance of, 67, 71. 
 
 Ancients, Council of the, to vote to 
 change the place of meeting, 
 268; does so, 274; meets at Saint 
 Cloud, 280. 
 
 Arcole, battle of, 80. 
 
 Army, the, of Italy, enthusiasm of, 
 25; the poverty of, 30; swiftness 
 and success of, <>!!; discourage- 
 ment of, 72; heroism of, 78; wild 
 with joy over its triumphs, 111; 
 regard Bonaparte as an ardent 
 Republican, 131. 
 
 Arnault describes the effect of Jo- 
 sephine's beauty, 17; quoted, 39, 
 43, 105; liis reminiscences of Tal- 
 leyraml, isi ; with Bonaparte at 
 Talleyrand's ball, 190; on the 
 Egyptian expedition, 200; sails 
 with the army for Egypt, 207; 
 conversation of, with Bonaparte 
 about the 18th Brumaire, 2(i7. 
 
 Anueivait counsels lighting, 59; 
 sent to Paris by Bonaparte to 
 win the confidence of the Demo- 
 crats, 135; arrests the reaction- 
 ary deputies, 138. 
 
 Ball, Talleyrand's, in honor of 
 Bonaparte, 188 ; cost of, 192. 
 
 Barras, a witness of Napoleon's 
 marriage to Josephine, 1 ; con- 
 ciliated by Josephine, 109 ; threat- 
 ens Lavalette, 140; speech of, at 
 Bonaparte's reception in Paris, 
 178 ; at the end of his tether, 213 ; 
 Bonaparte's disgust with, 260; 
 resign ationj)f. 27<5, 281. 
 
 I'.riiuhaniais, Kugetie de, taken 
 into Bonaparte's confidence, 238 ; 
 Bonaparte's affectioa_ior, 240; 
 wounded at Saint Jean d'Acre, 
 240; describes the departure of 
 Bonaparte from Egypt, 244; 
 pleads with Bonaparte lor Jose- 
 phine, 25G. 
 
 Beauharnais, Hortense de, acts in 
 Esther before Bonaparte, 195. 
 
 I'.eaiivais, a Xorman deputy, saves 
 Bonaparte, 284. 
 
 r.<nap:irte. marries the Viscountess 
 of Beauharnais, 1 ; deeply in love, 
 1, ;r ft .svf/.; leaves Paris for 
 Italy, 2; his affectionate letters 
 to his wife, 3, 6, 9, 11, 40, 48, 49 
 et seq., 61, 6f>, 73, 87, 89, 98, 100; 
 takes command of the Army of 
 Italy, 5; his victories, 10; his. 
 swift successes, 14; passes for a 
 Republican, 18 ; effect of his vic- 
 tory at I.oili, IS; enters Milan. 
 _'7 ; his power nf striking the im- 
 agination, 28; his hold on his 
 soldiers, 29; sends his resigna- 
 tion to the Directory, 32; liis 
 lack of heart, 34; his_affcction_ 
 for Josephine. :Vi ; urges her to 
 join him, 39 ; takes her with him 
 on his campaign, 47; a sentimen- 
 
 301
 
 302 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 tal chord in his character. 30; 
 
 inspired by love and patriotism, 
 50; announces in advance tlie 
 defeat of Wurmser, 58; defeats 
 Wurmser at Castiglione, GO, and 
 in the Tyrol, G3 ; impatient with 
 the Directory, 67 ; assures Carnot 
 of his devotion to the Republic, 
 68; his anxieties, 70; forced to 
 retreat, 72 ; confesses he had lost 
 hope, 75 ; his despairing letter to 
 the Directory, 76; his peril at 
 the bridge of Arcole, 80; victory 
 of Arcole, 81 ; his faith in his 
 destiny, 83; his disposition to 
 revery and melancholy, 84; suf- 
 fers from physical disorders, 87 ; 
 his demeanor at Milan after Ar- 
 cole, 90; his aides-de-camp, 90; 
 happy in his wife's society. 93; 
 ill of a fever, 95 ; wins the battle 
 of Rivoli, 96 ; signs the treaty of 
 Tolentino, 99; his letter to the 
 Pope, 100; defeats the Archduke 
 Charles and enters Germany, 102; 
 makes peace with Austria and de- 
 clares war against Venice, 104 ; 
 his court in the Serbelloni Palace 
 in Milan, 105 ; pleases all parties, 
 109 ; his contempt for the Direc- 
 tory, 109 ; joyjtl to Josephine* 110 ; 
 his court at the castle of Monte- 
 bello, 115; declares ..Josephine's 
 dot:. Fortune, his rival, 121 : insti- 
 tutes a -rand military festival at 
 Milan, 124 ; happy among his sol- 
 diers, 127 ; reveals his real inten- 
 tions to Melito, 132 ; a Republican 
 at first for his own advantage. 
 134 ; his double game, 135 ; makes 
 a Republican proclamation to his 
 army, 141; at Passeriano, 143; 
 accuses the Directory of injus- 
 tice, 147; letter of, to Talleyrand, 
 149; decides to abandon Venice 
 to Austria, 151; his situation 
 critical, 158; gains Talleyrand 
 by letters of sympathy and con- 
 fidence, 158 ; refuses to obey the 
 
 commands of the Directory to 
 revolutionize Italy, 159 ; smashe^ 
 CobenzFs porcelain and declares 
 war with Austria, 160 ; signs the 
 treaty of Campo Formio, 161 ; has 
 the Venetian deputies arrested 
 and brought before him, 163; re- 
 ceives a letter from Talleyrand 
 congratulating him on the peace, 
 164; sets out on his return to 
 Paris, 165 ; his journey a series of 
 ovations, 1(>8; arrives in Paris, 
 168 ; his popularity, 171 ; pub- 
 lic reception to, at the Luxem- 
 bourg, 172; pleased by Talley- 
 rand's flatteries, 175 ; his speech 
 at the reception, 177: attends 
 Talleyrand's ball in his honor, 
 189 ; elected a member of the In- 
 stitute, 194; determines not to 
 stay in Paris, 197; visits the 
 northern ports, 198; determines 
 on the Egyptian expedition, 198; 
 leaves Paris secretly, 202 ; his es- 
 cape from a serious accident, '_'():' : 
 at Toulon, 204 ; sails from Toulon, 
 207 ; his faith in his fortune, 2i n' : 
 proclamation of, to his men, 210 ; 
 contempt of the Legitimists for, 
 222; his calculation of the effect 
 of the Egyptian expedition on the 
 Parisians, 232 ; his gigantic plans, 
 233; his melancholy, 235; talks 
 of a divorce, 236; is calmed by 
 Bourrienne, 237; dismisses, with 
 Eugene de Beauharnais Jose- 
 phine's unfaithfulness, 238; fails 
 at Saint Jean d'Acre, 240; dis- 
 cusses his plans with Bourrienne, 
 240 ; his proclamation to his army, 
 241 ; his wonderful march to 
 Cairo, 242 ; destroys the Turkish 
 army at Aboukir, 242 ; determines 
 to return to France, 243; the Egyp- 
 tian campaign of service to Bona- 
 parte, 246; his skilful use of it, 
 246 ; his perilous return to France, 
 247 et seq.; arrives at Corsica, 
 249; lands at Frejus, 251 : arrives
 
 INDEX. 
 
 303 
 
 in Paris, 254 ; refusea_io see Jo- 
 
 sephine, '2~>~> ; is reronriled with 
 her, 256; decides to ally liim-i-lf 
 with Sieyes, 258, 260 ; meets Mo- 
 reau, 259; his craft, 2GO; acci- 
 dent to, while riding, 263; con- 
 duct of, at the civic banquet, 
 2<>5; arranges the coup d'etat of 
 the 18th Brumaire, 269 et seq.; 
 hiils Madame Gohier to summon. 
 In i- Imshand, 272; appears be- 
 fore the Council of Ancients, 
 27"> ; reproaches the Directory 
 with ruinous laws and misery, 
 27i; ; well content with the course 
 of events, 279; appears among 
 the Ancients and speaks as a 
 master, 282; enters the Council 
 of Five Hundred and is assailed, 
 2S4; his proclamation, 290; mas- 
 ter of France, 293; possibly a 
 Cstsar in spite of himself, 297. 
 
 Bonaparte, family, the, at Monte- 
 bello, 115. 
 
 lionaparte, Citizeness. See Jose- 
 phine.' 
 
 I'.onanarte, Madame I.ctitia, at 
 < icnoa, 116; character of, 226; 
 n-si. Inl \\ith her sun Joseph, 228; 
 her self-possession the 19th I'.ru- 
 maire, 289. 
 
 UonapartCj Caroline, 228; aiubi- 
 : iou.s. 22'J. 
 
 r.oiiapartr, Klisa, 22-S. 
 
 I'.onaparte, .lerome, character of, 
 22.s. 
 
 I'.onaparte, Joseph, sent by Xapo- 
 Ifoii to the Directory. 12; charac- 
 ter of, 22i. 
 
 liouaparte, Louis, aide-de-camp to 
 r.onaparte, !>2; hostile to Jose- 
 phine, 228. 
 
 I'.onaparte, Lucien, character and 
 career of, 227 ; elected president 
 of the Council of the Ancients, 
 2.">:',; silences the Deputies, 27ii, 
 281; denounced by the Depu- 
 ties, L'.sTi; cherishes liberal hopes, 
 198, 
 
 Bonaparte, Pauline, frivolous con- 
 
 duct of. US; tin- handsomest 
 woman in Paris, 228. 
 
 Bottot, Barras' secretary, sent to 
 Bonaparte at Passeriano, 147, 
 protests to Bonaparte that the 
 Directory admire and love him, 
 150. ^ 
 
 Bourrienne, in the secret of Napo- 
 
 leon's Egyptian expedition, 2(>t); 
 calms Bonaparte's jealous rage, 
 237. 
 Boyer, Christine, wife of Lucien 
 
 .Bonaparte. 227. 
 Brumaire, the 18th, 263 et seq.; 
 
 the 19th, 280. 
 Bucentuur, the, fate of, 156. 
 
 Carnot, his speech celebrating mili- 
 tary glory, 21 ; opposes Talley- 
 rand's entrance into the ministry, 
 186. 
 
 Charles, the Archduke, defeated 
 by Napoleon, 102. 
 
 II l Ju his i ntnivnit rsft yn tjl 
 I'.onaparte, 144 ; Bonaparte's vio- 
 lent scene with, regarding Man- 
 tua, 160; accedes to Bonaparte's 
 proposition, 161. 
 
 Milam di', bur hatred 
 
 ol-Bonaparte, 223. 
 
 Cornet, his address to the Council 
 of Ancients, 273; informs Bona- 
 parte of the action of the Council, 
 275. 
 
 Council of Five Hundred, indigna- 
 tion of, 276; meet at Saint Cloud, 
 280; unfavorable to Bonaparte, 
 281, 284; uproar in, 285; dis- 
 persed by the Grenadiers, 288. 
 
 Croissier, aide-de-camp to Bona- 
 parte, 93. 
 
 . Madam.' de, her ivfusal to 
 niftftt .Tombing, 223. 
 Pan.iolo. at III.- head of ihe |.ro\U- 
 ional government in Venice, 151; 
 speaks courageously and el 
 quently for liis country, 163.
 
 304 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Desaix, General, visits Bonaparte 
 at Passeriano, 146. 
 
 Directory, the, glorify Napoleon, 
 15; celebrate the "Festival of 
 Gratitude and of the Victories," 
 19; detect Bonaparte's plans, but 
 hope to use him, 136 ; suspicious 
 of Bonaparte, protest friendship, 
 149; no longer taken seriously, 
 213 ; the resignation of, 270, 276. 
 
 Duroc, Bonaparte's aide-de-camp, 
 92. 
 
 Egyptian expedition starts from 
 Toulon, 206; useful to Bonaparte, 
 246; made up of rashness and 
 risks, 247. 
 
 Elliot, Bonaparte's aide, killed at 
 Arcole, 82, 86. 
 
 " Festival of Gratitude and of the 
 Victories," celebration of, 19. 
 
 Fortune, Josephine's dog, 121. 
 
 Fouche', conversation of, with Go- 
 hier, 266. 
 
 Gallo, Marquis of, snubbed by 
 Bonaparte, 145. 
 
 Gantheaume, Rear Admiral, takes 
 Bonaparte on his ship, 243. 
 
 Genoa, Bonaparte's ultimatum to, 
 116. 
 
 Gohier, M., true to Republican 
 principles, 213; disturbed at Bona- 
 parte's arrival, 253; receives Bo- 
 naparte, 258; conversation of, 
 with Fouche, 266; declines Jose- 
 phine's invitation, 272; protest 
 of, 276. 
 
 Gohier, Madame, friendship of, cul- 
 tivated by Josephine, 231; in- 
 \ forms her husband of the Bona- 
 partes' plot, 272. 
 
 Goncourts, the, on the worship of 
 the Theophilanthropists, 214. 
 
 Grassini's interview with Napo- 
 leon, 111. 
 
 Gros, paints the first portrait of 
 Bonaparte, 93. 
 
 Holland, King of, see Louis Bona- 
 parte, 92. 
 
 Junot, sent to Paris with the cap- 
 tured battle-flags, 12, 16; charac- 
 ter of, 90; tells Bonanarte_th:u 
 Josephine is unfaithful, 23T.. 
 
 Josephine, her marriage with Bo- 
 naparte, 1 ; fascinated by, but 
 not in love with, her husband, 4; 
 her appearance at the festival of 
 the reception of the captured 
 flags, 15; her feelings for Bona- 
 parte, 36 ; dislikes to leave Paris, 
 37 ; criticised, for not joining Na- 
 poleon, 38 ; goes to Milan to meet 
 Bonaparte, 44 ; saves Bonaparte 
 by inducing him to leave Brescia, 
 55 ; in peril, 55 ; fired on from 
 Mantua, 57 ; longs for Paris, 64 ; 
 letter of, to Hortense, 65; stays 
 at Milan to prevent an insurrec- 
 tion there, 75 ; entertained by the 
 city of Genoa, 88; holds Bona- 
 parte on her lap while his por- 
 trait is painted by Gros, 93; her 
 letters to Bonaparte not pre- 
 served, 101 ; hef court in the 
 Serbelloni Palace in Milan, 107 ; 
 of great service to Napoleonj, 108 ; 
 conciliates Barras, 10'.); Jier per- 
 sonal appearance and charm, 
 110; tact and kindness of, 1'JO: 
 grand reception given to, by the 
 Venetians, 157 et seq. ; her happi- 
 ness complete, 195; wishes to 
 accompany Bonaparte to Egypt, 
 206; views the departure of t In- 
 flect, 210; accident to, at Plom- 
 bieres, 220; buys Malmaison, 
 221; lmrt^byJJie_ ridicule Qi -the- 
 Legitimiste, 222; ier-*elatiau*- 
 withtKemT~224 ; her salon, _"_'."> : 
 exercises diplomacy with the Bo- 
 napartes, 225, 229; often short of 
 money, 225); her kindly disposi- 
 tion, 230; cultivates Madame 
 Gohier's friendship, 231 ; w'tl'- 
 outjier aid Bonaparte would not
 
 INDEX. 
 
 305 
 
 have become Emperor, 231 ; hears 
 at M. Uohier's of Bonaparte's ar- 
 rival, 253; starts to meet him 
 and takes the wrong road, 253; 
 denied admittance to Bonaparte's 
 a|>artment,255; is reconciled with 
 him, 250; her tact and skill of 
 un-at service to Bonaparte, 259; 
 Tii the secret of the 18th Bru- 
 maire, 2G7; her attempt to in- 
 volve, the (Jolliers, 27.'; her pres- 
 tige and influence, _".),">; takes up 
 lirr (juarters in the Tuilerics, 2! IS. 
 
 Lanfrey, M., describes. Josephine's 
 attachment for Napoleou. .'!5. 
 
 Laniies. (icueral, heroism of, at Ar- 
 cole, 81, 86. 
 
 Lavalette, Bonaparte's aide-de- 
 camp, !)3; sent to Paris by Bo- 
 naparte to act on the Royalists, 
 135; threatened by Barras, re- 
 turns to Bonaparte, 140; his tes- 
 timony regarding the intrigues 
 of Bonaparte's brothers against 
 Josephine, 170. 
 
 Lavalee, Theophile, quoted, 212. 
 
 Lelirun, the poet, his hymn at the 
 Republican banquet, 23. 
 
 Lefebvre, General, won over by Bo- 
 naparte, 271. 
 
 Lemerrois, Bonaparte's aide-de- 
 camp, 92. 
 
 Lodi, the battle of, 18; festival 
 celebrating the victory of, 19. 
 
 Luxembourg, public reception to 
 Bonaparte at, 172. 
 
 Marmont, describes the entry into 
 Milan, 27; Napoleon's conversa- 
 tion with, 28 ; character of, 91 ; 
 his account of the stay at Mon- 
 tebello, 119 ; on the signing of the 
 treaty at Campo Formio, 161 ; de- 
 scribes Bonaparte's narrow es- 
 cape at Roquevaire,203; describes 
 the perils of the Egyptian expe- 
 dition on the way to Egypt, 208. 
 
 Mclito, Miot de, relates Bonaparte's 
 
 conversation with him at Milan, 
 concerning his real plans and 
 ideas, 132. 
 
 Mersfeld, General von, Austrian 
 plenipotentiary at Passeriano, 
 146. 
 
 Metternich says that Napoleon was 
 not irreligious, 99. 
 
 Michelet, quoted, 50. 
 
 Milan, Napoleon's entrance into, 
 25 ; the comfort of the soldiers 
 in, 31 ; society in, after the vic- 
 tories of Bonaparte, 112; grand 
 military Republican Festival at, 
 124. 
 
 Montebello, Bonaparte's court at 
 the castle of, 114 ; Austrian pleni- 
 potentiaries at, 115; description 
 of, 118. 
 
 Murat, sent to Paris by Napoleon, 
 with the draft of the armistice, 
 12. 
 
 Nelson guarding Toulon with his 
 fleet when the Egyptian expedi- 
 tion sailed, 209- 
 
 Paris, under the Directory, 37; 
 fickleness of, 212; not conspicu- 
 ous for morality, 214 ; all parties 
 prepared to play Bonaparte's 
 game, 218. 
 
 Pope, the, compelled by Bonaparte 
 to pay a subsidy and cede terri- 
 tory, 100. 
 
 Quinet, Edgar, quoted, 83, 139, 264, 
 286,294. 
 
 Kagusa, Duke of. See Marmont. 
 
 Remusat Madame de, says Nape- 
 Icon had no heart, .'VI: but ad- 
 mits his affection for Josephine, 
 40, 74, 101 ; describes a visit to 
 Malmaison. '_"J1. 
 
 Rivoli, the battle of, 96. 
 
 Sardinia, armistice with. 12. 
 Saint Jean d'Angely, Regnault de,
 
 300 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 accident to Bonaparte while rid- 
 ing with, L'ti.'i. 
 
 Scott, Waiter, calls Napoleon fiery 
 in love as in war, 42; describes 
 the reception of Josephine at 
 Genoa, 88 ; describes her honors 
 in Italy, 117. 
 
 Sebastian!, Colonel, ordered by Bo- 
 naparte to guard the Tuileries, 
 269, 271. 
 
 Se'gur, General de, his account of 
 the scenes at the Tuileries the 
 18th Brumaire, 277. 
 
 Serbelloni, Duke of, meets Jose- 
 phine at the gate of Milan, 45 ; 
 his palace the residence of Bona- 
 parte at Milan, 46. 
 
 Sieyes, Abbe', Bonaparte refuses 
 to speak to him, 259; in league 
 with him, 260; resignation of , 27G. 
 
 Smith, Admiral Sidney, checks 
 Bonaparte at Acre, 241; sends 
 him news of French reverses, 243. 
 
 Staiil, Madame de, discovers that 
 the Republic was only a means 
 for Bonaparte's ends, 136 ; affects 
 a passion for Bonaparte, 137 ; in 
 hiding, the 17th Fructidor, 138 ; 
 efforts to get Talleyrand into the 
 Ministry, 186 ; presented to Bona- 
 parte, and questions him, 191 ; 
 her anecdote of Bonaparte and 
 Barras, 197; quoted, 204; her 
 Considerations on the French 
 Revolution quoted, 277; her 
 impression on the 19th Brumaire, 
 288. 
 
 Stendhal, his anecdote of M. Robert, 
 30; of the French army in Milan, 
 111. 
 
 Suleau, prediction of, 261. 
 
 Sulkowski, Bonaparte's aide-de- 
 camp, 92. 
 
 Theophilanthropists, the worship 
 of, 214. 
 
 Talleyrand, plays the part of a 
 fanatical Republican, 141 ; his 
 letter to Bonaparte on the events 
 of 18th Fructidor, 142; Bonaparte 
 gains him by letters of confidence 
 and sympathy, 158; writes to 
 Bonaparte congratulating him on 
 the peace of Campo Formio, 164 ; 
 speech of, at Bonaparte's recep- 
 tion in Paris, 175; his transfor- 
 mation from the Bishop of Au- 
 tun to Citizen Talleyrand, 185 
 et seq. ; tries to overreach Bona- 
 parte, 187; gives a grand ball in 
 Bonaparte's honor, 189. 
 
 Tallien, Madame, 16. 
 
 Venice, grand reception to Jose- 
 phine at, 151 et seq.; decadence 
 of, 155. 
 
 Women's fashions under the Direc- 
 tory, 216. 
 
 Wurmser, marches to relieve Man- 
 tua, 54 ; defeated at Castiglione, 
 60, and in the Tyrol, 63; takes 
 refuge in Mantua, 65 ; surrender 
 of, 97.
 
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