1799.
The two Councils—Barras' letter—Bonaparte at the Council of the
Five Hundred—False reports—Tumultuous sitting—Lucien's speech—
He resigns the Presidency of the Council of the Five Hundred—He is
carried out by grenadiers—He harangues the troops—A dramatic scene
—Murat and his soldiers drive out the Five Hundred—Council of
Thirty—Consular commission—Decree—Return to Paris—Conversation
with Bonaparte and Josephine respecting Gohier and Bernadotte—The
directors Gohier and Moulins imprisoned.
The scene which occurred at the sitting of the Council of the Ancients was very different from that which passed outside. Bonaparte had scarcely reached the courtyard and mounted his horse when cries of "Vive Bonaparte!" resounded on all sides. But this was only a sunbeam between two storms. He had yet to brave the Council of the Five Hundred, which was far more excited than the Council of the Ancients. Everything tended to create a dreadful uncertainty; but it was too late to draw back. We had already staked too heavily. The game was desperate, and everything was to be ventured. In a few hours all would be determined.
Our apprehensions were not without foundation. In the Council of the Five Hundred agitation was at its height. The most serious alarm marked its deliberations. It had been determined to announce to the Directory the installation of the Councils, and to inquire of the Council of the Ancients their reasons for resolving upon an extraordinary convocation. But the Directory no longer existed. Siey鑣 and Roger Ducos had joined Bonaparte's party. Gohier and Moulins were prisoners in the Luxembourg, and in the custody of General Moreau; and at the very moment when the Council of the Five Hundred had drawn up a message to the Directory, the Council of the Ancients transmitted to them the following letter, received from Barras. This letter; which was addressed to the Council of the Ancients, was immediately read by Lucien Bonaparte, who was President of the Council of the Five Hundred.
CITIZEN PRESIDENT—Having entered into public affairs solely from my
love of liberty, I consented to share the first magistracy of the
State only that I might be able to defend it in danger; to protect
against their enemies the patriots compromised in its cause; and to
ensure to the defenders of their country that attention to their
interests which no one was more calculated to feel than a citizen,
long the witness of their heroic virtues, and always sensible to
their wants.
The glory which accompanies the return of the illustrious warrior to
whom I had the honour of opening the path of glory, the striking
marks of confidence given him by the legislative body, and the
decree of the National Convention, convince me that, to whatever
post he may henceforth be called, the dangers to liberty will be
averted, and the interests of the army ensured.
I cheerfully return to the rank of a private citizen: happy, after
so many storms, to resign, unimpaired, and even more glorious than
ever, the destiny of the Republic, which has been, in part,
committed to my care.
(Signed) BARRAS.
This letter occasioned a great sensation in the Council of the Five Hundred. A second reading was called for, and a question was started, whether the retirement was legal, or was the result of collusion, and of the influence of Bonaparte's agents; whether to believe Barras, who declared the dangers of liberty averted, or the decree for the removal of the legislative corps, which was passed and executed under the pretext of the existence of imminent peril? At that moment Bonaparte appeared, followed by a party of grenadiers, who remained at the entrance of the hall.
I did not accompany him to the Council of the Five Hundred. He had directed me to send off an express to ease the apprehensions of Josephine, and to assure her that everything would go well. It was some time before I joined him again.
However, without speaking as positively as if I had myself been an eye-witness of the scene, I do not hesitate to declare that all that has been said about assaults and poniards is pure invention. I rely on what was told me, on the very night, by persons well worthy of credit, and who were witnessess of all that passed.
As to what passed at the sitting, the accounts, given both at the time and since, have varied according to opinions. Some have alleged that unanimous cries of indignation were excited by the appearance of the military. From all parts of the hall resounded, "The sanctuary of the laws is violated. Down with the tyrant!—down with Cromwell!—down with the Dictator!" Bonaparte stammered out a few words, as he had done before the Council of the Ancients, but his voice was immediately drowned by cries of "Vive la Republique!" "Vive la Constitution!" "Outlaw the Dictator!" The grenadiers are then said to have rushed forward, exclaiming, "Let us save our General!" at which indignation reached its height, and cries, even more violent than ever, were raised; that Bonaparte, falling insensible into the arms of the grenadiers, said, "They mean to assassinate me!" All that regards the exclamations and threats I believe to be correct; but I rank with the story of the poniards the assertion of the members of the Five Hundred being provided with firearms, and the grenadiers rushing into the hall; because Bonaparte never mentioned a word of anything of the sort to me, either on the way home, or when I was with him in his chamber. Neither did he say anything on the subject to his wife, who had been extremely agitated by the different reports which reached her.
After Bonaparte left the Council of the Five Hundred the deliberations were continued with great violence. The excitement caused by the appearance of Bonaparte was nothing like subsided when propositions of the most furious nature were made. The President, Lucien, did all in his power to restore tranquillity. As soon as he could make himself heard he said, "The scene which has just taken place in the Council proves what are the sentiments of all; sentiments which I declare are also mine. It was, however, natural to believe that the General had no other object than to render an account of the situation of affairs, and of something interesting to the public. But I think none of you can suppose him capable of projects hostile to liberty."
Each sentence of Lucien's address was interrupted by cries of "Bonaparte has tarnished his glory! He is a disgrace to the Republic!"
Lucien
—[The next younger brother of Napoleon, President of the Council of
the Five Hundred in 1799; Minister of the Interior, 1st December
1799 to 1841; Ambassador in Spain, 1801 to December 1801; left
France in disgrace in 1804; retired to Papal States; Prisoner in
Malta and England, 1810 to 1814; created by Pope in 1814 Prince de
Canino and Duc de Musignano; married firstly, 1794, Christine Boyer,
who died 1800; married secondly, 1802 or 1803, a Madame Jonberthon.
Of his part in the 18th Brumaire Napoleon said to him in 1807,
"I well know that you were useful to me on the 18th Brumaire, but it
is not so clear to me that you saved me then" (Iung's Lucien, tome
iii. p.89).]—
made fresh efforts to be heard, and wished to be allowed to address the assembly as a member of the Council, and for that purpose resigned the Presidentship to Chasal. He begged that the General might be introduced again and heard with calmness. But this proposition was furiously opposed. Exclamations of "Outlaw Bonaparte! outlaw him!" rang through the assembly, and were the only reply given to the President. Lucien, who had reassumed the President's chair, left it a second time, that he might not be constrained to put the question of outlawry demanded against his brother. Braving the displeasure of the assembly, he mounted the tribune, resigned the Presidentship, renounced his seat as a deputy, and threw aside his robes.
Just as Lucien left the Council I entered. Bonaparte, who was well informed of all that was passing,
—[Lucien distinctly states that he himself, acting within his right
as President, had demanded an escort of the grenadiers of the
Councils as soon as he saw his withdrawal might be opposed.
Then the first entry of the soldiers with Napoleon would be illegal.
The second, to withdraw Lucien, was nominally legal (see Iung's
Lucien, tome i, pp, 318-322)]—
had sent in soldiers to the assistance of his brother; they carried him off from the midst of the Council, and Bonaparte thought it a matter of no little importance to have with him the President of an assembly which he treated as rebellious. Lucien was reinstalled in office; but he was now to discharge his duties, not in the President's chair, but on horseback, and at the head of a party of troops ready to undertake anything. Roused by the danger to which both his brother and himself were exposed he delivered on horseback the following words, which can never be too often remembered, as showing what a man then dared to say, who never was anything except from the reflection of his brother's glory:—
CITIZENS! SOLDIERS!—The President of the Council of the Five
Hundred declares to you that the majority of that Council is at this
moment held in terror by a few representatives of the people, who
are armed with stilettoes, and who surround the tribune, threatening
their colleagues with death, and maintaining most atrocious
discussions.
I declare to you that these brigands, who are doubtless in the pay
of England, have risen in rebellion against the Council of the
Ancients, and have dared to talk of outlawing the General, who is
charged with the execution of its decree, as if the word "outlaw"
was still to be regarded as the death-warrant of persons most
beloved by their country.
I declare to you that these madmen have outlawed themselves by their
attempts upon the liberty of the Council. In the name of that
people, which for so many years have been the sport of terrorism,
I consign to you the charge of rescuing the majority of their
representatives; so that, delivered from stilettoes by bayonets,
they may deliberate on the fate of the Republic.
General, and you, soldiers, and you, citizens, you will not
acknowledge, as legislators of France, any but those who rally round
me. As for those who remain in the orangery, let force expel
them. They are not the representatives of the people, but the
representatives of the poniard. Let that be their title, and let it
follow them everywhere; and whenever they dare show themselves to
the people, let every finger point at them, and every tongue
designate them by the well-merited title of representatives of the
poniard!
Vive la Republique!
Notwithstanding the cries of "Vive Bonaparte!" which followed this harangue, the troops still hesitated. It was evident that they were not fully prepared to turn their swords against the national representatives. Lucien then drew his sword, exclaiming, "I swear that I will stab my own brother to the heart if he ever attempt anything against the liberty of Frenchmen." This dramatic action was perfectly successful; hesitation vanished; and at a signal given by Bonaparte, Murat, at the head of his grenadiers, rushed into the hall, and drove out the representatives. Everyone yielded to the reasoning of bayonets, and thus terminated the employment of the armed force on that memorable day.
At ten o'clock at night the palace of St. Cloud, where so many tumultuous scenes had occurred, was perfectly tranquil. All the deputies were still there, pacing the hall, the corridors, and the courts. Most of them had an air of consternation; others affected to have foreseen the event, and to appear satisfied with it; but all wished to return to Paris, which they could not do until a new order revoked the order for the removal of the Councils to St. Cloud.
At eleven o'clock Bonaparte, who had eaten nothing all day, but who was almost insensible to physical wants in moments of great agitation, said to me, "We must go and write, Bourrienne; I intend this very night to address a proclamation to the inhabitants of Paris. To-morrow morning I shall be all the conversation of the capital." He then dictated to me the following proclamation, which proves, no less than some of his reports from Egypt, how much Bonaparte excelled in the art of twisting the truth to own advantage:
TO THE PEOPLE.
19th Brumaire, 11 o'clock, p.m.
Frenchmen!—On my return to France I found division reigning amongst
all the authorities. They agreed only on this single point, that
the Constitution was half destroyed, and was unable to protect
liberty!
Each party in turn came to me, confided to me their designs,
imparted their secrets, and requested my support. I refused to be
the man of a party.
The Council of the Ancients appealed to me. I answered their
appeal. A plan of general restoration had been concerted by men
whom the nation has been accustomed to regard as the defenders of
liberty, equality, and property. This plan required calm and free
deliberation, exempt from all influence and all fear. The Ancients,
therefore, resolved upon the removal of the legislative bodies to
St. Cloud. They placed at my disposal the force necessary to secure
their independence. I was bound, in duty to my fellow-citizens, to
the soldiers perishing in our armies, and to the national glory,
acquired at the cost of so much blood, to accept the command.
The Councils assembled at St. Cloud. Republican troops guaranteed
their safety from without, but assassins created terror within.
Many members of the Council of the Five Hundred, armed with
stilettoes and pistols, spread menaces of death around them.
The plans which ought to have been developed were withheld. The
majority of the Council was rendered inefficient; the boldest
orators were disconcerted, and the inutility of submitting any
salutary proposition was quite evident.
I proceeded, filled with indignation and grief, to the Council of
the Ancients. I besought them to carry their noble designs into
execution. I directed their attention to the evils of the nation,
which were their motives for conceiving those designs. They
concurred in giving me new proofs of their uniform goodwill, I
presented myself before the Council of the Five Hundred, alone,
unarmed, my head uncovered, just as the Ancients had received and
applauded me. My object was to restore to the majority the
expression of its will, and to secure to it its power.
The stilettoes which had menaced the deputies were instantly raised
against their deliverer. Twenty assassins rushed upon me and aimed
at my breast. The grenadiers of the legislative body, whom I had
left at the door of the hall, ran forward, and placed themselves
between me and the assassins. One of these brave grenadiers (Thome)
had his clothes pierced by a stiletto. They bore me off.
—[Thome merely had a small part of his coat torn by a deputy,
who took him by the collar. This constituted the whole of the
attempted assassinations of the 19th Brumaire.—Bourrienne]—
At the same moment cries of "Outlaw him!" were raised against the
defender of the law. It was the horrid cry of assassins against the
power destined to repress them.
They crowded round the President, uttering threats. With arms in
their hands they commanded him to declare "the outlawry." I was
informed of this. I ordered him to be rescued from their fury, and
six grenadiers of the legislative body brought him out. Immediately
afterwards some grenadiers of the legislative body charged into the
hall and cleared it.
The factions, intimidated, dispersed and fled. The majority, freed
from their assaults, returned freely and peaceably into the hall;
listened to the propositions made for the public safety,
deliberated, and drew up the salutary resolution which will become
the new and provisional law of the Republic.
Frenchmen, you doubtless recognise in this conduct the zeal of a
soldier of liberty, of a citizen devoted to the Republic.
Conservative, tutelary, and liberal ideas resumed their authority
upon the dispersion of the factions, who domineered in the Councils,
and who, in rendering themselves the most odious of men, did not
cease to be the most contemptible.
(Signed) BONAPARTE, General, etc.
The day had been passed in destroying a Government; it was necessary to devote the night to framing a new one. Talleyrand, Raederer, and Siey鑣 were at St. Cloud. The Council of the Ancients assembled, and Lucien set himself about finding some members of the Five Hundred on whom he could reckon. He succeeded in getting together only thirty, who, with their President, represented the numerous assembly of which they formed part. This ghost of representation was essential, for Bonaparte, notwithstanding his violation of all law on the preceding day, wished to make it appear that he was acting legally. The Council of the Ancients had, however, already decided that a provisional executive commission should be appointed, composed of three members, and was about to name the members of the commission—a measure which should have originated with the Five Hundred—when Lucien came to acquaint Bonaparte that his chamber 'introuvable' was assembled.
This chamber, which called itself the Council of the Five Hundred, though that Council was now nothing but a Council of Thirty, hastily passed a decree, the first article of which was as follows:
The Directory exists no longer; and the individuals hereafter named
are no longer members of the national representation, on account of
the excesses and illegal acts which they have constantly committed,
and more particularly the greatest part of them, in the sitting of
this morning.
Then follow the names of sixty-one members expelled.
By other articles of the same decree the Council instituted a provisional commission, similar to that which the Ancients had proposed to appoint, resolved that the said commission should consist of three members, who should assume the title of Consuls; and nominated as Consuls Siey鑣, Roger Ducos, and Bonaparte. The other provisions of the nocturnal decree of St. Cloud had for their object merely the carrying into effect those already described. This nocturnal sitting was very calm, and indeed it would have been strange had it been otherwise, for no opposition could be feared from the members of the Five Hundred, who were prepared to concur with Lucien. All knew beforehand what they would have to do. Everything was concluded by three o'clock in the morning; and the palace of St. Cloud, which had been so agitated since the previous evening, resumed in the morning its wonted stillness, and presented the appearance of a vast solitude.
All the hurrying about, the brief notes which I had to write to many friends, and the conversations in which I was compelled to take part, prevented me from dining before one o'clock in the morning. It was not till then that Bonaparte, having gone to take the oath as Consul before the Five Hundred, afforded me an opportunity of taking some refreshment with Admiral Bruix and some other officers.
At three o'clock in the morning I accompanied Bonaparte, in his carriage to Paris. He was extremely fatigued after so many trials and fatigues. A new future was opened before him. He was completely absorbed in thought, and did not utter a single word during the journey. But when he arrived at his house in the Rue de la Victoire, he had no sooner entered his chamber and wished good morning to Josephine, who was in bed, and in a state of the greatest anxiety on account of his absence, than he said before her, "Bourrienne, I said many ridiculous things?"—"Not so very bad, General"—"I like better to speak to soldiers than to lawyers. Those fellows disconcerted me. I have not been used to public assemblies; but that will come in time."
We then began, all three, to converse. Madame Bonaparte became calm, and Bonaparte resumed his wonted confidence. The events of the day naturally formed the subject of our conversation. Josephine, who was much attached to the Gohier family, mentioned the name of that Director in a tone of kindness. "What would you have, my dear?" said Bonaparte to her. "It is not my fault. He is a respectable man, but a simpleton. He does not understand me!—I ought, perhaps, to have him transported. He wrote against me to the Council of the Ancients; but I have his letter, and they know nothing about it. Poor man! he expected me to dinner yesterday. And this man thinks himself a statesman!—Speak no more of him."
During our discourse the name of Bernadotte was also mentioned. "Have you seen him, Bourrienne?" said Bonaparte to me.—"No, General"—"Neither have I. I have not heard him spoken of. Would you imagine it? I had intelligence to-day of many intrigues in which he is concerned. Would you believe it? he wished nothing less than to be appointed my colleague in authority. He talked of mounting his horse and marching with the troops that might be placed under his command. He wished, he said, to maintain the Constitution: nay, more; I am assured that he had the audacity to add that, if it were necessary to outlaw me, the Government might come to him and he would find soldiers capable of carrying the decree into execution."—"All this, General, should give you an idea how inflexible his principles are."—"Yes, I am well aware of it; there is something in that: he is honest. But for his obstinacy, my brothers would have brought him over. They are related to him. His wife, who is Joseph's sister-in-law, has ascendency over him. As for me, have I not, I ask you, made sufficient advances to him? You have witnessed them. Moreau, who has a higher military reputation than he, came over to me at once. However, I repent of having cajoled Bernadotte. I am thinking of separating him from all his coteries without any one being able to find fault with the proceeding. I cannot revenge myself in any other manner. Joseph likes him. I should have everybody against me. These family considerations are follies! Goodnight, Bourrienne.—By the way, we will sleep in the Luxembourg to-morrow."
I then left the General, whom, henceforth, I will call the First Consul, after having remained with him constantly during nearly twenty-four hours, with the exception of the time when he was at the Council of the Five Hundred. I retired to my lodging, in the Rue Martel, at five o'clock in the morning.
It is certain that if Gohier had come to breakfast on the morning of the 18th Brumaire, according to Madame Bonaparte's invitation, he would have been one of the members of the Government. But Gohier acted the part of the stern republican. He placed himself, according to the common phrase of the time, astride of the Constitution of the year III.; and as his steed made a sad stumble, he fell with it.
It was a singular circumstance which prevented the two Directors Gohier and Moulins from defending their beloved Constitution. It was from their respect for the Constitution that they allowed it to perish, because they would have been obliged to violate the article which did not allow less than three Directors to deliberate together. Thus a king of Castile was burned to death, because there did not happen to be in his apartment men of such rank as etiquette would permit to touch the person of the monarch.