1799.
Effect produced by Bonaparte's return—His justification—
Melancholy letter to my wife—Bonaparte's intended dinner at Sens—
Louis Bonaparte and Josephine—He changes his intended route—
Melancholy situation of the provinces—Necessity of a change—
Bonaparte's ambitious views—Influence of popular applause—
Arrival in Paris—His reception of Josephine—Their reconciliation—
Bonaparte's visit to the Directory—His contemptuous treatment of
Siey鑣.
The effect produced in France and throughout Europe by the mere intelligence of Bonaparte's return is well known. I shall not yet speak of the vast train of consequences which that event entailed. I must, however, notice some accusations which were brought against him from the time of our landing to the 9th of November. He was reproached for having left Egypt, and it was alleged that his departure was the result of long premeditation. But I, who was constantly with him, am enabled positively to affirm that his return to France was merely the effect of a sudden resolution. Of this the following fact is in itself sufficient evidence.
While we were at Cairo, a few days before we heard of the landing of the Anglo-Turkish fleet, and at the moment when we were on the point of setting off to encamp at the Pyramids, Bonaparte despatched a courier to France. I took advantage of this opportunity to write to my wife. I almost bade her an eternal adieu. My letter breathed expressions of grief such as I had not before evinced. I said, among other things, that we knew not when or how it would be possible for us to return to France. If Bonaparte had then entertained any thought of a speedy return I must have known it, and in that case I should not certainly have distressed my family by a desponding letter, when I had not had an opportunity of writing for seven months before.
Two days after the receipt of my letter my wife was awoke very early in the morning to be informed of our arrival in France. The courier who brought this intelligence was the bearer of a second letter from me, which I had written on board ship, and dated from Fr閖us. In this letter I mentioned that Bonaparte would pass through Sens and dine with my mother.
In fulfilment of my directions Madame de Bourrienne set off for Paris at five in the morning. Having passed the first post-house she met a Berlin containing four travellers, among whom she recognised Louis Bonaparte going to meet the General on the Lyons road. On seeing Madame de Bourrienne Louis desired the postillion to stop, and asked her whether she had heard from me. She informed him that we should pass through Sens, where the General wished to dine with my mother, who had made every preparation for receiving him. Louis then continued his journey. About nine o'clock my wife met another Berlin, in which were Madame Bonaparte and her daughter. As they were asleep, and both carriages were driving at a very rapid rate, Madame de Bourrienne did not stop them. Josephine followed the route taken by Louis. Both missed the General, who changed his mind at Lyons, and proceeded by way of Bourbonnais. He arrived fifteen hours after my wife; and those who had taken the Burgundy road proceeded to Lyons uselessly.
Determined to repair in all haste to Paris, Bonaparte had left Fr閖us on the afternoon of the day of our landing. He himself had despatched the courier to Sens to inform my mother of his intended visit to her; and it was not until he got to Lyons that he determined to take the Bourbonnais road. His reason for doing so will presently be seen. All along the road, at Aix, at Lyons, in every town and village, he was received, as at Fr閖us, with the most rapturous demonstrations of joy.
—[From Fr閖us to Aix a crowd of men kindly escorted us, carrying
torches alongside the carriage of the General, not so much to show
their enthusiasm as to ensure our safety (Bourrienne) These brigands
became so bad in France that at one time soldiers were placed in the
imperials of all the diligences, receiving from the wits the
curiously anticipative name of "imperial armies".]—
Only those who witnessed his triumphal journey can form any notion of it; and it required no great discernment to foresee something like the 18th Brumaire.
The provinces, a prey to anarchy and civil war, were continually threatened with foreign invasion. Almost all the south presented the melancholy spectacle of one vast arena of conflicting factions. The nation groaned beneath the yoke of tyrannical laws; despotism was systematically established; the law of hostages struck a blow at personal liberty, and forced loans menaced every man's property. The generality of the citizens had declared themselves against a pentarchy devoid of power, justice, and morality, and which had become the sport of faction and intrigue. Disorder was general; but in the provinces abuses were felt more sensibly than elsewhere. In great cities it was found more easy to elude the hand of despotism and oppression.
A change so earnestly wished for could not fail to be realised, and to be received with transport. The majority of the French people longed to be relieved from the situation in which they then stood. There were two dangers bar to cope with—anarchy and the Bourbons. Every one felt the urgent and indispensable necessity of concentrating the power of the Government in a single hand; at the same time maintaining the institutions which the spirit of the age demanded, and which France, after having so dearly purchased, was now about to lose. The country looked for a man who was capable of restoring her to tranquillity; but as yet no such man had appeared. A soldier of fortune presented himself, covered with glory; he had planted the standard of France on the Capitol and on the Pyramids. The whole world acknowledged his superior talent; his character, his courage, and his victories had raised him to the very highest rank. His great works, his gallant actions, his speeches, and his proclamations ever since he had risen to eminence left no doubt of his wish to secure happiness and freedom to France, his adopted country. At that critical moment the necessity of a temporary dictatorship, which sometimes secures the safety of a state, banished all reflections on the consequences of such a power, and nobody seemed to think glory incompatible with personal liberty. All eyes were therefore directed on the General, whose past conduct guaranteed his capability of defending the Republic abroad, and liberty at home,—on the General whom his flatterers, and indeed some of his sincere friends, styled, "the hero of liberal ideas," the title to which he aspired.
Under every point of view, therefore, he was naturally chosen as the chief of a generous nation, confiding to him her destiny, in preference to a troop of mean and fanatical hypocrites, who, under the names of republicanism and liberty, had reduced France to the most abject slavery.
Among the schemes which Bonaparte was incessantly revolving in his mind may undoubtedly be ranked the project of attaining the head of the French Government; but it would be a mistake to suppose that on his return from Egypt he had formed any fixed plan. There was something vague in his ambitious aspirations; and he was, if I may so express myself, fond of building those imaginary edifices called castles in the air. The current of events was in accordance with his wishes; and it may truly be said that the whole French nation smoothed for Bonaparte the road which led to power. Certainly the unanimous plaudits and universal joy which accompanied him along a journey of more than 200 leagues must have induced him to regard as a national mission that step which was at first prompted merely by his wish of meddling with the affairs of the Republic.
This spontaneous burst of popular feeling, unordered and unpaid for, loudly proclaimed the grievances of the people, and their hope that the man of victory would become their deliverer. The general enthusiasm excited by the return of the conqueror of Egypt delighted him to a degree which I cannot express, and was, as he has often assured me, a powerful stimulus in urging him to the object to which the wishes of France seemed to direct him.
Among people of all classes and opinions an 18th Brumaire was desired and expected. Many royalists even believed that a change would prove favourable to the King. So ready are we to persuade ourselves of the reality of what we wish.
As soon as it was suspected that Bonaparte would accept the power offered him, an outcry was raised about a conspiracy against the Republic, and measures were sought for preserving it. But necessity, and indeed, it must be confessed, the general feeling of the people, consigned the execution of those measures to him who was to subvert the Republic. On his return to Paris Bonaparte spoke and acted like a man who felt his own power; he cared neither for flattery, dinners, nor balls,—his mind took a higher flight.
We arrived in Paris on the 24th Vendemiaire (the 16th of October). As yet he knew nothing of what was going on; for he had seen neither his wife nor his brothers, who were looking for him on the Burgundy road. The news of our landing at Fr閖us had reached Paris by a telegraphic despatch. Madame Bonaparte, who was dining with M. Gohier when that despatch was communicated to him, as president of the Directory, immediately set off to meet her husband, well knowing how important it was that her first interview with him should not be anticipated by his brothers.
The imprudent communications of Junot at the fountains of Messoudiah will be remembered, but, after the first ebullition of jealous rage, all traces of that feeling had apparently disappeared. Bonaparte however, was still harassed by secret suspicion, and the painful impressions produced by Junot were either not entirely effaced or were revived after our arrival in Paris. We reached the capital before Josephine returned. The recollection of the past, the ill-natured reports of his brothers,
—[Joseph Bonaparte remarks on this that Napoleon met Josephine at
Paris before his brothers arrived there, (Compare d'Abrant鑣,
vol. 1, pp. 260-262 and R閙usat, tome i. pp. 147-148.)]—
and the exaggeration of facts had irritated Napoleon to the very highest pitch, and he received Josephine with studied coldness, and with an air of the most cruel indifference. He had no communication with her for three days, during which time he frequently spoke to me of suspicions which his imagination converted into certainty; and threats of divorce escaped his lips with no less vehemence than when we were on the confines of Syria. I took upon me the office of conciliator, which I had before discharged with success. I represented to him the dangers to be apprehended from the publicity and scandal of such an affair; and that the moment when his grand views might possibly be realized was not the fit time to entertain France and Europe with the details of a charge of adultery. I spoke to him of Hortense and Eug鑞e, to whom he was much attached. Reflection, seconded by his ardent affection for Josephine, brought about a complete reconciliation. After these three days of conjugal misunderstanding their happiness was never afterwards disturbed by a similar cause.
—[In speaking of the unexpected arrival of Bonaparte and of the
meeting between him and Josephine, Madame Junot says: "On the 10th
October Josephine set off to meet her husband, but without knowing
exactly what road he would take. She thought it likely he would
come by way of Burgundy, and therefore Louis and she set off for
Lyons.
"Madame Bonaparte was a prey to great and well-founded aspersions.
Whether she was guilty or only imprudent, she was strongly accused
by the Bonaparte family, who were desirous that Napoleon should
obtain a divorce. The elder M. de Caulaincourt stated to us his
apprehensions on this point; but whenever the subject was introduced
my mother changed the conversation, because, knowing as she did the
sentiments of the Bonaparte family, she could not reply without
either committing them or having recourse to falsehood. She knew,
moreover, the truth of many circumstances which M. de Caulaincourt
seemed to doubt, and which her situation with respect to Bonaparte
prevented her from communicating to him.
"Madame Bonaparte committed a great fault in neglecting at this
juncture to conciliate her mother-in-law, who might have protected
her against those who sought her ruin and effected it nine years
later; for the divorce in 1809 was brought about by the joint
efforts of all the members of the Bonaparte family, aided by some of
Napoleon's most confidential servants, whom Josephine, either as
Madame Bonaparte or as Empress, had done nothing to make her
friends.
"Bonaparte, on his arrival in Paris, found his house deserted: but
his mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law, and, in short, every member
of his family, except Louis, who had attended Madame Bonaparte to
Lyons, came to him immediately. The impression made upon him by the
solitude of his home and its desertion by its mistress was profound
and terrible, and nine years afterwards, when the ties between him
and Josephine were severed for ever, he showed that it was not
effaced. From not finding her with his family he inferred that she
felt herself unworthy of their presence, and feared to meet the man
she had wronged. He considered her journey to Lyons as a mere
pretence.
"M. de Bourrienne says that for some days after Josephine's return
Bonaparte treated her with extreme coldness. As he was an
eyewitness, why does he not state the whole truth, and say that on
her return Bonaparte refused to see her and did not see her? It was
to the earnest entreaties of her children that she owed the
recovery, not of her husband's love, for that had long ceased, but
of that tenderness acquired by habit, and that intimate intercourse
which made her still retain the rank of consort to the greatest man
of his age. Bonaparte was at this period much attached to Eug鑞e
Beauharnais, who, to do him justice, was a charming youth. He knew
less of Hortense; but her youth and sweetness of temper, and the
protection of which, as his adopted daughter, she besought him not
to deprive her, proved powerful advocates, and overcame his
resistance.
"In this delicate negotiation it was good policy not to bring any
other person into play, whatever might be their influence with
Bonaparte, and Madame Bonaparte did not, therefore, have recourse
either to Barras, Bourrienne, or Berthier. It was expedient that
they who interceded for her should be able to say something without
the possibility of a reply. Now Bonaparte could not with any degree
of propriety explain to such children as Eug鑞e or Hortense the
particulars of their mother's conduct. He was therefore constrained
to silence, and had no argument to combat the tears of two innocent
creatures at his feet exclaiming, 'Do not abandon our mother; she
will break her heart! and ought injustice to take from us, poor
orphans, whose natural protector the scaffold has already deprived
us of, the support of one whom Providence has sent to replace him!'
"The scene, as Bonaparte has since stated, was long and painful, and
the two children at length introduced their mother, and placed her
in his arms. The unhappy woman had awaited his decision at the door
of a small back staircase, extended at almost full length upon the
stairs, suffering the acutest pangs of mental torture.
"Whatever might be his wife's errors, Bonaparte appeared entirely to
forget them, and the reconciliation was complete. Of all the
members of the family Madame Leclerc was most vexed at the pardon
which Napoleon had granted to his wife. Bonaparte's mother was also
very ill pleased; but she said nothing. Madame Joseph Bonaparte,
who was always very amiable, took no part in these family quarrels;
therefore she could easily determine what part to take when fortune
smiled on Josephine. As to Madame Bacciocchi, she gave free vent to
her ill-humour and disdain; the consequence was that her
sister-in-law could never endure her. Christine who was a
beautiful creature, followed the example of Madame Joseph, and
Caroline was so young that her opinion could have no weight in such
an affair. As to Bonaparte's brothers, they were at open war with
Josephine."]—
On the day after his arrival Bonaparte visited the Directors.
—[The Directors at this time were Barras, Siey鑣, Moulins, Gohier,
and Roger Ducos.]—
The interview was cold. On the 24th of October he said to me, "I dined yesterday at Gohier's; Siey鑣 was present, and I pretended not to see him. I observed how much he was enraged at this mark of disrespect."—"But are you sure he is against you?" inquired I. "I know nothing yet; but he is a scheming man, and I don't like him." Even at that time Bonaparte had thoughts of getting himself elected a member of the Directory in the room of Siey鑣.